Katrina pulled her Prius into the parking lot at the Black Diamond Mines, uneasiness rippling through her shoulders. She felt an ominous presence here, but she was determined to go through with her plans. She stepped out of the car and gathered her camera and backpack.

"That is really not a good idea!"

For a moment, Katrina thought the man was talking to her. But she turned to see a father reprimanding his son for climbing a small tree next to the parking lot. "That tree is sitting on a slope and that branch is far from the ground. You could really hurt yourself if you fell," the man said to a shamefaced boy. Katrina's heart sank: here was another example of how far we've separated ourselves from nature. Fathers don't even want their sons to experience the joy of climbing trees.

She walked toward the outhouse. She didn't want to pee in the woods halfway through her hike, but the rank smell of the outhouse almost convinced her she could hold it. Three boys, one of them the tree-climber, ran up behind her calling dibs on the bathroom. But she got there first and they'd have to wait their turn.

Once inside, Katrina's eyes landed on a monstrous turd sitting not too far down from the seat of the john. The outhouse was full and there was no way to avoid thinking about what went on in there. The smell overpowered her and she put her sleeve to her nose to block its putrid stench. It's much easier to dissociate from human bodily functions in a regular bathroom, she thought.

Finishing quickly, Katrina leaped into the fresh air and perused the trail map. Next to it sat fliers with information on tarantulas and owls. She shuddered to think she might see a tarantula; spiders, especially big hairy ones, still scared her. She headed off on the trail, but it soon forked: she could go left or straight up a hill. She chose the trail to the left.

The place looked depressing. The site of five abandoned mining towns, miners changed the landscape by erecting buildings and planting non-native species on the surface of the land while they dug deep holes beneath it. They'd mined coal for 40 years, an operation that removed four million tons of coal from deep within the earth, altering the area forever. About twenty years later, people mined sand for 30 more years. Finally, in 1949, humans abandoned the land, deciding it was devoid of economic value.

Katrina could sense that abandonment. It wasn't that the land particularly liked having its insides dug out, but it did miss regular interaction with people who felt the land's importance. Now the land simply held the remnants of the mining operations: old equipment rusting in a valley, iron gates covering tunnel openings, and the stories of the men and women who lived there. The land also carried the stories of the Chupcan, Volvon, and Ompin who had wandered its valleys and peaks hundreds of years before the miners came. But no one asked the land to tell these stories very often anymore.

A heavy, depressed feeling surrounded Katrina as she walked through small clusters of non-native trees and listened to woodpeckers knocking on a dead tree. She pulled out her camera hoping to photograph the eerie landscape, but first she took a picture of her shadow stretching long across the dusty trail. Then she realized her battery had died. A smile crept onto her lips. Old Trickster was at it again, trying to get her attention. She knew his message this time: stop hiding behind the lens and be present to the landscape and its stories. Sighing deeply, she put away her camera and, with new resolve, headed back down the trail. She couldn't avoid the sadness of the land by looking only at the surface.

Katrina reminded herself of the time; the park closed in an hour and a half, so she couldn't take too long. A valley opened up before her and two circling hawks captured her attention. One flew low to the ground to her left and then caught a thermal. "Keep an eye out for signs," it said before it disappeared over the side of the hill. The grace of the bird made Katrina's breath catch. She thanked the hawk for its message and continued walking. As she steadily put one foot in front of the other, she realized this was the first hike she'd taken since her surgery two months earlier. She was out of shape. Although her breathing was heavy and her legs ached, she felt glad to be out in nature moving her body.

When she looked up from her thoughts, she stopped dead and gasped. Her left hand flew up over her heart and she uttered, "Oh my god." A coyote trotted along a cattle trail 50 yards away on her right. Its fur matched exactly the yellow-brown early fall grass. Katrina stared as though she saw a deity. She could not move her feet: the sight of the animal rooted her to the ground. The coyote crossed the valley as Katrina silently watched. It appeared unaware of her although she knew it sensed her presence. The beauty of the animal put Katrina in a state of awe. Time stopped. If I could hold on to this moment forever, I would, Katrina thought.

As she watched the coyote walk along the trail, she realized that once it reached a copse of trees to the right, she'd lose track of it. Just before it reached the trees, it turned and flashed Katrina a sly grin. Did she see what she thought she saw? Before she could figure it out, the coyote disappeared. It didn't come out the other side of the trees or walk up the hill. It just vanished. Suddenly, the landscape took on a mystical glow.

With a bounce in her step, Katrina walked up a steep hill. When she reached the top, a beautiful vista awaited her: Mount Diablo to her right, and the hills bordering the Delta to her left. Heart pounding, Katrina took a swig of water and decided what to do next. She looked at the trail map and saw that she could do a loop if she kept going forward up another hill to her right. Or she could turn back and return the way she came. The sun hugged the top of the hills, but she thought she would still have a good amount of daylight left.

Katrina went forward, heading off on Ridge Trail. It would eventually meet up with Chapparal Loop. She smiled, feeling good. She could tackle this hike, no problem.

Taking coyote's grin as a grand mystical sign, she believed she couldn't go wrong. But she forgot that coyote is the Divine Trickster and He always has something up his sleeve.

After a few minutes, Katrina realized she was hiking up an even steeper hill than the last. Her breathing became quite heavy and she finally understood how out of shape she'd become. The more difficult the trail got, the more alone Katrina felt. The friendly hills turned sinister. She looked over her shoulder every few minutes, wondering if a mountain lion was lurking behind a rock or if a coyote would suddenly emerge from behind a tree. Katrina wondered if she should turn back, but she immediately dismissed the idea as ridiculous. She could do this.

And yet, the trail got steeper. She had to take a few steps at a time and then stop walking. Her heart pounded in her head and all she could hear was her breathing. She began to turn on herself. This was a stupid, stupid idea, she thought. Now you're going to get yourself killed, eaten by a mountain lion or kidnapped by a deranged hiker.

Katrina continued to berate herself, and when she reached the top of a particularly brutal hill she wondered if she was even going the right way: Chapparal Loop should have already shown up on her right. Where was that damn trail anyway?

Finally, Katrina allowed herself a tiny break. When she stopped halfway up a steep hill, she looked to her right, seeing a dead tree that morphed suddenly into the head of a great blue whale. The knot in the tree became the great whale's eye and it stared right into her soul. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" the whale asked. "Why push yourself and treat yourself in this way? Don't you deserve better?" Katrina didn't know what to say. She was stunned.

The whale morphed again and became an elephant, its trunk raised toward the sky. "Don't take everything so seriously," the elephant said. "This trip is supposed to be fun, not a chore."

Katrina didn't want to hear any of it. She hiked as fast as she could away from the elephant-whale. All she could hear was the constant stream of anxiety in her mind: I can't be late! I can't get locked in here! What will I do? Sleep in my car? I have no way to call anyone because I left my cell phone at home. Stupid! Stupid! It was as if the whale and the elephant had never existed, had never given her the advice she'd desperately needed.

Just then, a coyote called. It was close. Chills crawled up Katrina's spine. Then, moments later, a group of coyotes called from further away. They're talking, she thought. They're gathering. I should have turned back. Why didn't I turn back?

She reached the top of the hill and another, grander vista stretched before her. She knew she'd be able to see the Sierras if the smog weren't clinging to the horizon. Katrina allowed herself to enjoy the vista for mere moments before heading off down the trail. The mantra "I can't be late" kept up its constant rhythm in her mind.

Now the trail became increasingly difficult. At first only a few easy-to-navigate boulders poked through the dusty trail. The path meandered downhill, which at first felt like a relief. But soon boulders filled the trail and this forced Katrina to slow down. She was not confident enough on her feet to negotiate the rocks without turning her ankle or causing worse damage. She slowed down, but only enough to be right on the edge of safety. Her only thought was that she couldn't get locked in.

Finally, the sign for the Chapparal Loop appeared. A sign of hope! Katrina gratefully stepped onto the new trail and headed down its narrow pathway. The bushes grew closer to the trail here and it began to feel like descending into another, darker world. Dusk clung to the trees and the sun sunk below the hills. Soon it would be dark. The coyotes called again. Fear had Katrina firmly in his grip now. Although she wanted to run for her life, she had to move excruciatingly slowly because the rocks under her feet became more dangerous.

Suddenly, a confusing mess of trails greeted Katrina. Two trails rambled to the left, one went straight and another wound to the right. She pulled out the map and held it in her shaking hands, hoping it would help her decide her path. She couldn't make sense of what she saw in front of her: the map didn't correspond to the actual landscape. Was she lost? Trying not to panic, Katrina chose the trail to the right. After a few yards she realized her mistake: the trail led her directly to an opening into the hill, an old mining area blocked by a heavy iron gate. Katrina did not have the courage to get closer to the ominous black hole. She quickly turned around, feeling fear prickling her shoulders. She returned to trail's fork and took a path that pushed her through tight spaces where branches scratched her face and caught on her jacket. She angrily pushed through and when she emerged she found the trail again.

Relieved, she began jogging down the trail, not worrying any more about twisting an ankle. She just wanted to get the hell out. She'd convinced herself that she wouldn't make it out in time and she'd be forced to walk a mile to the ranger's house or worse: sleep in her car with the coyotes and no dinner.

But just at that moment when everything looked the bleakest, the trail widened, becoming a road. Katrina speed up to a jog again and heard a truck coming - the ranger, patrolling the trails, making sure everyone headed in. I must be close now! Katrina thought. She allowed herself to slow slightly, although she still worried she wouldn't make it on time.

She came around a corner and saw the parking lot. Relief washed over her. She recognized the landscape as the part of the trail where she first decided to go right instead of up the hill. Only two cars remained in the parking lot, but she assumed that since the ranger hadn't come back this way yet, the park wasn't closed. She allowed herself a little time to stretch. Then she saw a cop car entering the parking lot and this prompted her to trot toward her car. She got in and sighed in relief. She looked at the clock: 6:30 p.m. Katrina laughed heartily. She still had a half hour! How foolish of her to get so scared!

It hit her that her experience was a message, a journey. She could choose to follow this same journey in her life: pushing herself, being fearful, hurting herself in order to make it to some imagined destination on time, or she could choose to slow down and take things as they come, even if it means turning back.

Katrina saw that she's always rushing to "make it," and that her mind is always focused on this rather than enjoying her surroundings. She only sees the magic of life briefly, in spurts, and she believes that's all she needs, that that one taste will sustain her. But she realized she needs to allow that magic to flow through her all the time, to allow it to guide her. The magic told her to turn back, to take it easy. But her logic told her she must press on, that going forward was the only right way.

Katrina saw that pushing and allowing fear to dominate her thoughts made her harried, worried, and anxious, and this mindset caused her to rush through the best parts of her life. She learned that sometimes, even though it's uncomfortable, sitting with the numinous and dusky times would bring her amazing insights. Coyote, Ruler of Dusk, taught her a stunning lesson that day at the Black Diamond Mines.