Sedona, Arizona

[Jill Paris was recently published in the Travelers' Tales anthology, The Best Travel Writing 2009. Currently a graduate student at USC in the Master of Professional Writing program, she's working on a collection of short travel stories for her thesis, including this story which explores the alleged spiritual properties of Sedona's famous vortexes.]   { Go to Part 2 now }

I've often toyed with the possibility that my parents found me on their doorstep tucked in a basket with a note that read: Please take care of this little girl. Warning: May show signs of childlike behavior for life.

I've been accused of immature beliefs for a woman my age. I believe in angels. I believe trolls reside beneath bridges and fairy sprites swim the ocean deep. I believe in ghosts. I believe the hobbits from Lord of the Rings probably exist. I believe E.T. phoned home. So, yes, of course I believe the rocks in Sedona could contain supernatural abilities.

I handed my mother the information I'd downloaded from a site on Sedona. She began reading and after about thirty seconds laid the paper down on the kitchen counter giving me a look that could shatter concrete.

"What?" I said.

"I've seen enough."

"Mommy, did you read the part about the energy coming out from the surface of the Earth!?"

"Twisting energy? In the Juniper trees?" she pointed to a photo with corkscrewed branches.

"It's real, Mom. They wouldn't put it online if it wasn't true. Those rocks in Sedona are supposed to be magical."

"Honey, those rocks are a crock."

"Let's go find out."

"I don't know," she drifted off looking at a jigsaw puzzle strewn across the dining room table. "I'm kind of busy."

I guess I still looked seven clutching that tabby kitten I brought home without permission because she gave in quickly and sighed, "Oh, all right."

Friday, September 26, 2008 - an hour before sunset

As I glanced out of the driver's side window the car began drifting across the center divider. My eyes were fixed on the towering red-pink rock formations that appeared like a castle mirage. My mouth hung open like a baby bird's at feeding time.

"It's gorgeous," my mother uttered. "Just gorgeous. Honey, watch where you're driving!"

A quick jerk of the steering wheel sent the car back over the line. My heart sped up. I turned down the radio and lowered the window. A loud humming noise could be heard from outside. It was like the sound of alien aircraft.

"My tummy feels weird," I said almost whispering.

"I think that's called hunger."

"No, I swear...I feel something."

"Why don't you feel your way toward the motel," she said turning up the music.

[Photo, right: Searching for the Bell Rock Vortex on the trail to Bell Rock.]

Friday, September 26, 2008 - sunset

My mother and I opened the back door to the balcony and gasped in unison. The proximity of the rocks to our second-story veranda was a spectacular amenity. Then, moments later, that extra-terrestrial noise started from the row of distant trees beyond the pool. In Sedona, these "locusts," as the girl at the front desk called them, were out in mass force this year. They sounded altogether life-threatening. It's what a live electrical wire sounds like when it jumps the line.

"Do they bite?" I'd asked during check-in.

She just smiled and shook her head no.

After the sun set and our rocks were no longer glistening, four hairy bugs joined me on the patio. One brazen bastard clung to the chair's wrought-iron arm.

"Locusts!" I screamed.

My mother grabbed a visitor's guide from the coffee table and rolled it up.

"No, Mommy! Don't make `em mad!" I grabbed her other arm and yanked her toward me, fearful of an uprising. "Let's go eat."

On the way to dinner I plotted our vortex search for the next few days. I have always felt the name suggests a kind of mathematical definition to the mystery of life. Like "the vortex" is the precise intersection where Point A and Point B meet, converge, explode, and then suddenly an all-knowing presence grants you the secret meaning of the universe.

According to the map, four main vortexes can be found around Sedona: Boynton Canyon Vortex, the Airport Vortex, Red Rock Crossing/Cathedral Rock Vortex and Bell Rock Vortex. I talked my mom into visiting at least two and narrowed my selection down choosing the most alluring rock formations, Bell Rock and Cathedral Rock.

Online information reports: "A vortex is a funnel shape created by a whirling fluid or by the motion of spiraling energy." The explanation compares water going down a drain or a tornado as examples. The tricky thing about these vortexes is that you can't actually see them, you feel them apparently. The energy is supposed to be similar to the subtle energies inside of us. And, the more sensitive a person is, the stronger the feeling can be.

Friday, September 26, 2008 - nighttime

"Do you really need that drink?" my mom said as the waiter walked away.

"Yes, I really need it."

The Barking Frog Grille on Highway 89A serves cactus fries with prickly pear dipping sauce. Washed down with a double-shot margarita I almost forgot about our friends back at the motel.

"We're on vacation, Mom," I said. "People drink on vacation." Maybe the locusts would be repelled by the tequila oozing from my pores.

{ Go to Part 2 }

Article and photos, © 2009, Jill Paris. Permission is required for reproduction.