Folks of all kinds fill their containers with the nectar of the mountain near the entrance of Mount Shasta City Park. Oftentimes artists play guitar or offer their craftwork from the benches near the water’s edge.

On a day still clinging to the lazy play of summer yet foretelling a hint of autumn colors, we witnessed a different scene.

An emaciated middle-aged man lay on a cot. His spindly arms had little strength left, and the bony ridges of his rib cage pressed hard against his grey skin. He was hooked up by tubes to an oxygen tank and surrounded by friends.

Three men sat across from the cot. One sang and plucked lilting notes on a wooden harp. A fourth stood close to the sickly man while two golden-haired women ministered to his comfort. The friends radiated with selfless compassion.

The beauty and perfection of the moment drew us in as Kati and I observed from a nearby bench. Others felt the same respect. A passing cyclist stopped and stood straight with his bike, watching quietly.

We recognized the fourth man of the gathering as one we’d seen on earlier days when he was wearing camouflage clothes and sitting at a picnic table. He had appeared self-contained, living in his own world as he focused on making sage bundles. He had a solid build and muscular arms.

On this morning he was bare-chested and in short pants, and his graceful movements were conscious and deliberate.

Picking up a cleaned bowl used earlier for food, he turned away to the pool’s edge where the water still dances with aliveness, the song of the mountain. He squatted and filled his bowl from the healing fountain.

When he turned back around and bent down at the laying man’s feet, he seemed transformed. His movements were lighter and his face was beaming. He bathed the man’s feet from the bowl, absorbed in the act.

With pauses between, he soaked washcloths and applied them to the fevered skin of his friend using the utmost tenderness. He talked softly with the man, laughing and smiling. After several minutes of this, he worked in the energy field and made sweeping motions over the man’s body.

Finally, he straddled the cot and carefully picked the man up in his arms. He held him in a warm and gentle embrace. The healer eased the man back onto the cot.

A feeling of peace and completion radiated from the scene as the leaves of the trees danced in the soft golden light of the sun.