The Grand Canyon Again

Day 28 Photo Album

September 30, 2009

The morning got off to a rocky start with my computer, the Mac server, and myself colliding un-harmoniously with the end result that all the titles on my photos were lost and I have to copy them from the version on the server before I post again.

Not unlike the weather: fierce wind and cold temperatures. The wind picked up last night and some rain fell as I drove home. The forecast was for showers in the morning, so I did not try to see the sunrise at the Grand Canyon.

Today’s visit to the canyon was quite different. I prepared to be without access to my car for the day, packing up food and water, taking all my layers of clothes, rearranging all those precious bits of myself that have particular places.

The shuttle buses on the Hermit’s Trail section (the western third of the south rim) are very full due to this being the only access. But people get off at different places and we all seemed to be rather spread out along the canyon in a very comfortable way. If you are very energetic, you could walk the entire way and back, about 7 miles each way.

I started at Hopi Point and walked a mile or so in each direction from there. The views are different and in several places you can see the Colorado River and some rapids.

It was so cold and windy I had all four layers on immediately off the bus. But as I walked I found the wind was not always intense, just in the flat and open areas. This trail has quite a lot of trees beside the dirt path (another advantage from the Mather Point trail which is asphalt) and winds along the cliff quite close to the edge.

As I gazed out at this wonder, trying to take in everything, I began to see rhythms in the layers and their complex falling away formations. The graceful expressions of letting go of what seems hard but as it meets the wind, unwinds itself.

It helps me to sketch some bits of line, zooming in on the puzzle pieces, even though the edges of the paper confine the desire to keep going.

The ravens were showing off all day. Sometimes alone but frequently in pairs, diving, soaring, dancing with each other near the cliffs. Talking in casual voices. They let their legs dangle as well.

Once I am pretty sure I saw a condor, but only one.

I hopped on the bus again to the end of the line as the day wore on. The pull to watch the sunset was tempered with the cold and tiredness settling in. So I decided to savor the last moments of the canyon here at Hermit’s Rest. Shadows were growing longer and out of the corner of my eye I could almost see them moving. Somehow those moments linger with me in a quiet, familiar way.

As I rode the bus back to the parking lot I felt as if I had been to a great art exhibit and seen too much art. I was so full of this canyon in the best possible way, I couldn’t take in any more. And this feeling, these experiences are held deep inside of me, embedded in a way that I can reach inside for the rest of my life to pull out a fresh experience from those memories.

Traffic was heading into the park as I was heading out. It is heart warming to see people enjoying sunsets. A reassurance that many, many people value nature and the power of a sunset.

I was not disappointed by the drive back to Williams. The sunset was at 6:15 but the spectacle on the plains was 360 degrees for at least a half an hour and 180 degrees for another 15 minutes. All the way back! Being able to see forever in all directions creates a bowl of light overhead. On the eastern horizon shades of pink, blue, and purple hovered and shifted in balance with the dwindling intensity of light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel-yellow along the western horizon. As the sky overhead reached for the darkest black it could find and the ground joined in that search, the western horizon continued to glow with defiance and as if to show how amazing it is.

I will sleep well and deep with a fullness of the treasures inside those canyon walls.