9/18/10 Early morning in Zion Canyon. The quiet is immense as I watch the the mosaic of rock on the close canyon walls. No other travelers, just red and white sandstone walls, sun on spires, changing, reflected light within the canyon, and my paint box. In the direct light of early morning the red sandstone rock pillars have a golden glow. The canyon land forms are wrapped in the intense blue of the sky and bounded by courageous trees which dare to take root on ledges above her precipitous walls. One comes to understand just how small they are in the presence of millions of years of earth’s history, turned up on end and cut through by the action of water. What we are and how we live matters, but mother earth, with her sun and rock, water, sky and change matters so much more. Water which flows out of sandstone layers today was deposited by rain 1600 years ago. It rolls from a cliff face, watering lush hanging gardens and nurturing a green oasis below.
I hiked along the canyon edge, looking down into the meadow, glancing toward the curving rocks above me, and focusing across the valley at the pillars and cliffs that defined the far side of the canyon. Amazing to be here, just walking and looking and seeing. The intense late morning sun penetrated each step of the hike, making the few places of shade welcome relief.
This land is stark, beautiful, and powerful.
I hiked along the canyon edge, looking down into the meadow, glancing toward the curving rocks above me, and focusing across the valley at the pillars and cliffs that defined the far side of the canyon. Amazing to be here, just walking and looking and seeing. The intense late morning sun penetrated each step of the hike, making the few places of shade welcome relief.
This land is stark, beautiful, and powerful.
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