On Antelope Island, we park the car on the side of the road, get out, and run the plains like natives.

An island of plains, surrounded on all sides by water, and the water, surrounded by mountains. In the center of the island, the plains fold up into the hills, and the hills into snow-capped peaks.

At the foot of the peaks begins a much more vertical climb. Slipping on piles of broken and jagged black rocks, some of which get displaced and tumble down, and enlist some others in their fall.

At some parts, we must really hug tight to the mountain face, and dig our toes into the dirt and snow, and balance with our hands.

At the jagged top, we set into meditation to claim the peace we came for. I am first to settle in, laying on my back and starting to breathe. Brother stays standing for a little while longer to take in the glassy water and snowy mountains around us. Then, he too, lays down to settle in.

On our own in the beginning. I meditate on the scenery, opening my eyes to see the blue and cool landscape, then closing them to remember it.

Brother meditates on something else, until I start to make my breathing louder and vibrate in my deeper throat. Brother joins. We are not exactly in tandem; his breaths are longer than mine. We add to the volume, especially when our vibrations overlap.

We grow louder and louder and start to sings in a low and deep mountain tone. Brother instructs me to bring the white energy down through myself and into the earth. When we open our eyes, it has begun to snow.