Many years ago, maybe fifteen, we did a several day backpack in the Stein. One night as we slept in this sacred place I had a vivid dream. Despite the constant roar of the river soft footsteps were heard, with a person, very, very old coming to stand silently outside our tent. It wasn’t frightening, but there was a sense of deep age. The person was dressed in the old way. As this person(being) stood silently a rain of pine needles began to fall on the inside of the tent. I still can recall the whispering sound as they fell, eventually covering us and the bottom of the tent, softly.
It may have been something to do with the asking of permission as we entered the valley, I am not sure.
Buddhism would likely be considered “new” by the standards of this place. One does not want to impose.
This tiny statue, maybe an inch tall sits in a particular place here. It overlooks the river and the steep canyons. It watches over the myriad beings who rest here.