LUCKY SEVERSON, guest anchor: There's a feeling among many people of faith that certain geographic places have about them a spiritual power. Sometimes it's their natural beauty or simplicity. They are sometimes called "thin" places, where the barrier between the material and spiritual worlds seems porous. One such place is the Valley of the Shining Stone in New Mexico, which has attracted communities of Catholics, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists and Presbyterians.

There are some who come through this austere place in northern New Mexico and find it too rugged, too stark, too godforsaken. But for many, it is a powerful display by an almighty creator.

The Pueblo Indians who resided here for centuries thought the land was haunted with spirits, good and bad.

It was also sacred to Georgia O'Keefe, who spent her life capturing and preserving images of the landscape. She said God told her if she painted the anvil-shaped Cerro Pedernal peak often enough, he would give it to her.

The strongest testament of the spiritual draw of this otherworldly terrain is the rich variety of believers who come and stay here.

Down the valley, for instance, there's a Sikh commune. Further north, a Benedictine monastery. There are Buddhists temples -- stupas -- not to mention Presbyterian and Baptist spiritual retreats nearby, and across the valley from Georgia O'Keefe's home, a small community of Muslims has built the Dar al-Islam mosque. It was designed by the renowned Egyptian architect Hassan Fathy. Walter de Clerck came here as a young man and became a spiritual man. He says for some the quietness of the place, both outside and in, can be jarring.

WALTER DE CLERCK: When you come into a place of silence, contemplative silence, your system -- that's abnormal, and it takes a while before you realize that this state is more normal than the din of the city. And we have people who come here and say, "My God, this is too silent for me. I cannot stand this." Look at this land. It is a land of poverty, and I mean poverty in a spiritual sense. What we say in Arabic -- "faqr," which is simplicity, not adorned, not with the nose up in the air. It's very simple and very fragile. And that is really a metaphor for the human condition, isn't it?

SEVERSON: Some of the Muslims here are Sufis, the mystical tradition that differs from the more orthodox version of Islam. Among other distinctions, Sufis believe that their goal is to lose their separate identity from their creator until they become one with Allah. They enjoy music and dancing. For Rabia and Benjamin Van Hattum, this part of the universe is not a coddling place for fair-weather believers. Life can be difficult, they say. But the harsh surroundings constantly reinforce their belief in Allah.

RABIA VAN HATTUM: Well, it says in the Qur'an that the creation of all of the worlds is more important than the actual creation of mankind. It is a greater creation than we are. We're just players in it.

SEVERSON: Not many miles from the Dar al-Islam mosque, in a remote orange canyon, there's a wilderness of breathtaking stillness. This is the Monastery of Christ in the Desert. It seems an ideal spot for the Benedictine monks to experience the deep silence they say allows them to hear the voice of God. Brother Prior Christian:

Brother PRIOR CHRISTIAN (Monastery of Christ): It's a very quiet, beautiful place. We are surrounded by federal wilderness, which assures the quiet of the area, and we are blessed by that. But still there is stuff in the head that needs to be shut down even amidst the quiet that might be physically present around you.

SEVERSON: Even the steeple bell announcing lunch rings softly. Guests are allowed for a small price, providing they adhere to the rule of silence. The unadorned sound of nature whispers volumes about the power that created it. This is Catholic country. But almost every small town has a tiny church where Hispanics called "penitentes" worship in their own conservative version of Catholicism.

A thunderstorm turns the swollen Chama River a dirty red. Belden Lane describes this land as a ruddied open wound -- shocking and tantalizing in its beauty -- a landscape that bleeds. How people will react to this, he says, will depend on what they bring to it.

It is not the most likely place to find an ornate Sikh temple. The founder of Sikhism, Guru Nanak, preached a simple message -- that God can be found within us through meditation, vegetarianism, and public service, and that there are many paths to the creator. Sat Mitar Kaur found the path for her a few years ago, but she says following it here has not been easy.