I hear a whisper in a world that only shouts
Well.. A few weeks ago I visited two of the most beautiful, sacred places I have been thus far. There is something so magnificently sacred about the very South of New Zealand.
Sometime at the beginning of March, I traveled a place called Doubtful Sound (which is actually a fjord - sounds are created by the sea, fjords by glacial impact) in the Fiordland area, where I traveled by boat with my jaw hanging open and poetic renditions about the beauty of the color "grey" running through my head. With a hot cup of coffee continuously in one hand, camera in other, and fabulous #arcteryx rain jacket sheltering me, I was warm as bread in a toaster.
"Visitors are humbled yet uplifted by the atmosphere of powerful solitude in the presence of the superb physical grandeur of Doubtful Sound." - Fiordland.org.nz
YES!!!
Doubtful Sound is the largest of the sounds at 421 meters deep, with 3 huge arms and breathtaking waterfalls.
It truly encompasses "The sound of silence."
I stayed out on the huge boat deck nearly the entire time, other than to refill my COMPLIMENTARY coffee and tea (backpacker's paradise, I'll take all I can get.)
As I was standing out on the deck completely alone, as the refreshing rain had started to fall, and the wind was a bit crisp and chilled, I was reminded once again: "alone" is not the equivalent of "lonely."
I walked to the front of the ship, spread my arms like the beautiful Rose from Titanic, and flew. I absolutely soared. I felt the rain-stung wind whip across my icy face, and tasted the spray of crystal water on my chapped lips. I soaked in the solace. The sound of only the boat cascading along the water, the gentle pur of the engine, and the muffled sound of the guide's voice over the loudspeaker. Dolphins jumped in their show-and-telll parades next to me, I saw squeaking penguins on the shoreline, and we sailed past sea lions sprawled out in all their adorable, sleek blubber along the cliffs. I found, if but for a moment, bliss.
Eventually, people came back out to see the animal life, and I asked a man to snap this photo for me... So I could remember.
Speaking of not truly being "alone," this little spider was accompanying me the entire time.
((Yes, I did take an EXTREMELY long video of him clinging to his web for dear life. It was, adorable, to say the least. He held on like a boss. I was thoroughly impressed.))
Videos are hard to post on here so... The blurry photo will have to suffice.
We boated over to Doubtful on Lake Manapouri, home to New Zealand's largest hydroelectric power station... Pretty damn cool.
While Doubtful Sound respected and held my silence, my grey eyes and grey tears falling effortlessly in tune with her grey magnificence, it was MILFORD SOUND that truly, truly took my breath away.
Milford Sound. The many shades of blues comprising her sensational waters, first seen by these two ever-changing blue eyes at age 15. This was one of the sights seen on a simple original-edition MacBook computer in the early 2,000 years, that called my soul from somewhere deep inside me.
And her magnificent glory was more than anything in my 10-year-since-then hundreds of pristine water, rugged mountain dreams.
Milford Sound. 330 m. So delicious I could eat her up like a blueberry with cream on top.
Mitre Peak stands 1,692 m above Sea Level and seems to cradle, care for, and quiet all that lies below her.
The mountain peaks in Milford are quite a bit larger than those in Doubtful Sound, and the more narrow width of the fjord makes it appear even more so.
I felt so tiny, paddling around in a little kayak in that giant breathtaking beauty. Once again gently reminded of my own insignificance and the beautiful paradox of the circle of life and all the many ecosystems intertwining across the Earth.
I decided that, since I had boated Doubtful Sound, I would get a bit more up close and personal to Milford, and kayak.
Best decision I made that day.
Sea lions put on show after show right next to us as we paddled along. They flipped and turned and rubbed their cute little bums up against the rocks ((we didn't know why.. Maybe a scratch? Maybe showing off? Maybe I should have averted my eyes? Unsure.. But it was the most adorable bum rock-scratch I've ever seen.))
Penguins dove for food not a few meters from the tips of our yellow submarines.
The beautiful bush lines next to us swayed and rustled with life and energy. The magnificent waterfalls roared and playfully sprayed us with droplets of delicious tasting water as we rowed close to where their powerful downpour met the calm of the fjord.
The weather was ON POINT that day. I honestly could not have asked for anything better. Wicked blue skies with deliciously warm sun rays beat down overhead.
The bright blue of the atmosphere stared clearly for hours at her beautiful reflection in the water, as her colors mixed with the multi-palated blue shades of the fjord. They together created a most excellent bowl to cascade along as, once again, my mouth hung open at the majesty before my eyes.
I had an excellent evening stargazing and making friends the night before. And my enthusiasm for my day on Milford could not have been matched.
After a full day of kayaking, I asked the driver to drop me off near the start of my next walk, where I would proceed to spend 2 consecutive weeks alone in the bush.
I hiked that night with my much too heavy ((food sucks to carry)) pack to my campsite, with an effortless smile on my face the entire trek up. Magnificent views awaited me there as well.
I now know, why my soul was called to New Zealand. And I could not be more happy that I followed my truth. All of the difficulties of the last year have been more than worth it. Just to be, where I am.
I am blessed.
Namaste. Xx Rachel