There is nothing unique, or even particularly exciting about pointing out spring colors, about relishing in the hues of this most lovely season. Since poets and artists and storytellers began their craft at the dawn of humanity, we have remarked on the blossoms and bird songs, the renewed buzz of life, the epiphany of emergence. And yet our redundancy returns every year.
But how could it not? The earth never seizes to amaze, beauty abounds.
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Photos are intriguing: they can capture so much. But when I look back on these images decades from now, will I remember the important details happening behind and around each photo? The call of the meadowlark as the grass stirs and whispers … Continue reading
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Quite certainly frozen in its moment, rocks and trees and plants and waters stand still. Organized in such a way to catch the attention of the methodical walker. Patterns and lines, color and light, halt our steps, lock our eyes, spur … Continue reading
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After the cold air subsides, or at least warms up slightly, there’s that moment of getting out the door. We chase the sun, or the light, or just the fresh air that comes with every storm. Nothing is uncommon, the lake … Continue reading
I wonder today, as I often do, about the never-ending quest for the known locations. The ways we strive for the famous spots. And the degradation of their dramatic beauty as we tromp across the little space that’s left well beyond capacity.
And yet so much stunning landscape exists just off the quiet highway between an indistinct small town with local rodeo heroes, and another one not remembered for much of anything. Just a few miles down a dirt road, entire stories of wild and fierce granitic landscapes, bold splashes of fall color painted by Gambel Oaks, Autumn Blaze Maples, and the red-hued fall grasses, show off whether we are there to witness it or not. The solitude of one loan junco working its way from branch to branch, does not need to be broken by our footsteps.
But I count myself lucky to have been here today, October 14th, 2023, a day of the ring of fire eclipse, to bare testimony of these oaks and maples and monoliths, to breathe in a pause, exhale a moment of gratitude, and exclaim, beauty is all around.
I dare myself to follow the indistinct path that runs along the fence line at the back of the viewpoint. The fence keeps me from going farther into the open space, but at least there is some natural reprieve from the grind of the asphalt interstate. And then there, as if purposely placed for those having these thoughts, is a rather solid and well thought out ladder, ascending over the barbed-wire, and descending into the great wild. I’ve been to this viewpoint a dozen times, raced down this highway towards home several times more than that, and yet I never knew of this ladder and what was to be revealed beyond.
I dare myself to climb up and down the ladder. Over the otherwise impassable fence, and escape the rutted humdrum of my own travels. Off into the great expanse I wander, carefully placing footprints on solid sandstone instead of the crust of living soil. Following the old remains of flood channels. And over small rock caves surrounded by pinyon cones, foraged and gathered by local chipmunks. Until I arrive at a hill, desert pavement tilted at 30 degrees.
I dare myself to scramble up the talus. Though it looks like it might slide, it stays in place for the moment, shifting from hues of dusty gray to the brilliant reds and browns known here, into a band of dark white, ubiquitous here as well. And then across a mid-cliff pathway, almost a trail built by the same geologic forces that provide the macro beauty for which this viewpoint was built to admire.
I dare myself to walk along this path. And there as it comes to the cliff’s edge, is the real viewpoint. Not the one I have seen so often, the one I gaze at from inside my car as I enjoy it briefly before racing off again at 80 mph. This view point is higher by 30 or so feet, the road descending almost out of view, the horizon that much farther away. The solitude obvious.
Pull over, walk the path, climb the ladder, ascend the hill, wander down another path.
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The park across the street, tucked up against a major interstate, used heavily for organized recreation, dog walking, and playground fun, never ceases to amaze me with the unfolding of nature season after season. Gratitude to the park manager and … Continue reading
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