The Word of the Desert

This morning, I was on the road by 8:00.  I stopped at Lake Powell – Glen Canyon.  I climbed down the red eddying rock to the lake and gave myself a bit of scare wondering whether or not I would be able to find my way back.  (There were other people around – no real worries).  The lake was clear to the bottom and October sky blue.

The wind has not stopped blowing since I crossed into Arizona.  If you forget that the wind is blowing, you will think your alignment it way off.  Is it always like this? 

 

Along the way, I stopped here and was still for a long while drinking in the rock, the shades of color, and the sounds.  The swallows forgot I was there and swooped right beside me.  They look to be playing hawk, catching the thermals. Then they take on sprint speed for their insect dives.  

Next, I drove down to the south entrance of the Grand Canyon.  I think you need to be an artist to take a good picture of the Canyon.  It is hard for the eye and mind to comprehend the depth and breadth, never mind the camera with its lack of peripheral vision and depth perception. How does one trick it into seeing what is there?

I managed to avoid the crowds.

Languages I heard at the Canyon:

French

German

Vietnamese

Korean

Spanish

Japanese

Russian

Swedish?

Croatian

Australian English

British English

I have come to an understanding with Arizona – the desert of Arizona.  It speaks a word that reminds me of asceticism and pulls me into meditation.  It is a word that I don’t really want to hear right now, and all the same it is good.  The desert is more forthright with its call to stillness.  The Canyon is easily underestimated and holds its cards close to its chest.  It can bewilder you with its beauty and hide its true self like a coy woman.

On a lighter note . . .

What I like about Arizona . . .

Dogs sleeping in front of hotels.

Goats – unpenned – grazing on the side of the highway.

The red-orange earth.

Asceticism.

What I don’t like about Arizona  . . .

           Does anyone live here?

           The questionable chance of surviving if my car broke down.

           Commercialism (I wonder if there are more tourist shops than people).

           Speed traps (no I didn’t get a ticket -- it just appears that this is a major means of state income).

Time for bed.