Grand Canyon sunset, taken from Yaki Point, 6/26/08
I’m still trying to process everything we experienced on our trip to Grand Canyon. It’s hard to know where to start. I suppose if you’ve been there then you know what I’m saying, and if you haven’t then there’s no way I can explain it to you.
Things that will need to be internalized and then discussed in detail:
tears…seeing the canyon, hearing the wind in the Ponderosa pines, watching native Americans sharing their culture with the tourists who took time to stop and watch the dancing and listen to the songs, watching my husband’s tears as he watched the dances and listened to the singing, watching my daughter hug a stuffed animal (a mule, of course) as we flew through some turbulence on the way home and realizing that this trip was as much about her growing up as it was about her brother doing likewise.
solitude…how it can be so quiet 100 feet below the canyon rim when you know there are tons of tourists up there, finding Shoshone Point and being the only people there as sunset approached, riding a horse through the pine forest with my daughter and our guide.
perspective…how hard it is to find when seven miles down and fifty miles away look the same, when you feel so small and insignificant next to an agave plant with a 30 foot bloom that wasn’t there a week earlier, or when you stand next to a Ponderosa that was growing before Europeans “discovered” the canyon 400 years ago, or witness the growth of the forest that only comes after the fire.
awe…words are not sufficient, perhaps not even appropriate.