High above the Fraser River at Yale…

… the mountain’s bones break apart. From here…

…they tumble down to the river, broken apart, I presume, all the way down. Within them, there are pungent-smelling caves. These are the spirit caves of the lower canyon.

Within them, there are spirits. The caves transport voices far away from where they sound, and lead you astray, or spin the world away.

What you bring here is what you take away. What is here is what is here.

Explanations of uplifted seabeds eroded by water are only part of the power of this mountain.

It is not exactly a door, and it is not exactly a path.

It is a revelation.

Words are not all human.