The golden hues of sunrise
Seem always
Somehow
More precious
Than the golden goodbye
Of sunset

The golden hues of sunrise
Seem always
Somehow
More precious
Than the golden goodbye
Of sunset
Some scenes defy description
EvenĀ a photograph
Cannot capture them
Sometimes you just have to be there
In the moment
No. Always be in the moment
No words can describe a scene
Or a moment
No photograph
Can transport me to a place in time
Or fill me with the grace of presence
I wake
Into darkness
Scramble out of the tent
Enough time to boil water
Coffee
Cereal
Almond milk
The breakfast of
Car camping
Photographers
Pre-dawn
On the horizon
Time to go
Camera bag
Tripod
Fresh brew in the travel mug
On the way
Not far from the campground
Dawn demands a stop
Unexpected glory
In a few hurried frames
Then to the switchbacks
Moki Dugway
Rising twelve hundred feet
Straight up Cedar Mesa
From the top
With the wide zoom
And the fisheye
Then, this one here
On the middle zoom
Expected glory
Deep sigh of success
And anticipation
For the work which takes
A latent image of RAW bits
To the finished photograph
Here
Arrives the dawn in golden glory
Sunlight’s kiss good morning
Rise ye
Rise ye
The universe is calling
The mesa falls away
Into the depths of early evening
Low sun illuminates
Undulating canyons and buttes
Sedimented sandstone
Layers indicating a scale
Powerfully daunting
And exquisite
And I
Stopped halfway between
Floor and ceiling
Sense myself in the centre of aeons
Epochs pass
Every hundred steps or so
Up the trail
A hundred years
A thousand
A hundred thousand
A million
Unwinding time
As species come
And species go
Great, fearsome lizards
Ruled the known universe
For 165 million years
But only in the last tens of steps
Before the top
Do I walk in the footsteps
Of my most ancient ancestors
A paltry 6 or so million years ago
I am reminded
For all our accomplishments and cleverness
We are but toddlers on this Earth
Itself nothing more
Than a pale blue dot
Circling a minor star
Spiraling in an outer arm
Of one galaxy
In a universe dotted
With hundreds of billions
Layer upon layer
Of time and space
Stretch out to scales
Unimaginable
A few steps more
I stand atop the mesa
Returned to the time and place
That belongs to me now
Deep, heavy breaths
To gain my equilibrium
While scanning across the vista
Tallying a few hundred million years of strata
A snippet
In an existence billions of years in the making
Layer upon layer of time and space
To make this collection of sediments
Which seems so very vast and ancient
But is no more than a cosmic blip
In all that was
All that is
And all that will be
I feel small
Fleeting
Insignificant
Yet
Somehow
And nonetheless
Stupendously magnificent
Because in all this immensity
Stands me
A self-aware collection of molecules
Contemplating the inconceivable miracle
That is my own consciousness
Tucked away in some small backwater
Of eternal infinity
Just how fucking exquisite is that?
And the view up here is awesome.
The sun sets
Light falls away to darkness
But for the little beacon of light
That is me
Sometimes
Life moves at a pace
I cannot keep
Or rather
Life moves
I simply do not
And in my disastrous stillness
The dust storm rolls in
Without hesitationĀ
To Roll
Over
Me
Move or don’t move
Retreat or don’t retreat
Seek cover or…
Let
The dust
Take me
Given just a day
We arrive
With howling glory
Our sun waxes
Then wanes
And in the end
Extinguished
Though in the final moments
Perhaps an opportunity
To reprise the beauty
That was and is
The magical light
Of our manifestation
Until I
Understood
Everything
Is glory
“I beg your pardon if this offends you,” he began, it seemed to me, in rather gentle tone for a being known to have bellowed up a hurricane, “but you seem mighty small for something which calls itself ‘King of this land and all the land you’ve ever known,’ some small trifle claiming to command us, the Brethren of the Mountains, as his subjects.” Gentle, perhaps, but not without a significant undertone of malice.
We approached the ziggurat
Towing over thirty feet of living space
Exiting
The Valley of the Gods
Switchbacks, gravel and steep grades
More than a thousand feet straight up
I wondered
At the wisdom of this drive
Then the thought
Each adventure ever had
Begins with
Just a little bit of faith