Great dead lake dying
Beneath a punishing sun
No relief in sight
The air
Briny scent of death
The water
Still, thick with salt
The sand
Crusted, brittle, shards sharp underfoot
But the skies
Azure brushed with cirrus wash
And the sun
A hot glitter off the ripples
A beach day
Nonetheless
Sunlight skitters
Off the rippled lake
As a flat stone thrown
From a practiced hand
An expanse of green
And brown beyond
Soon again to be green
Above
A sky
Promising the gift of rain
A smattering of structures
For shelter, work and storage
All to service the green
Occupants come and go
Seasons of family
And movement
Change
The cycle of life
Plays out in a rural field
Far from city markets
Some scenes defy description
Even 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
The golden hues of sunrise
Seem always
Somehow
More precious
Than the golden goodbye
Of sunset
As the day fails to black
Half the sky is stars
Half is clouds
Which continue to roll in
Soon enough so thick
Even a half moon couldn’t peek through
Were there a moon at all
But I’m grateful for the stars
Too the clouds
Behind which
Twinkling pinpricks in the blackness
Play hide-and-seek
With star gazers like me
In the quiet heat of the night
The road takes me through
A deepening darkness
Toward a near horizon
Of fantastical colour
Receding with the sun
I depress the accelerator
Hoping at least to keep pace
But wishing to my core
That someday
I will catch up
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