The paradox of a landscape is that we often can’t understand the landscape because of the overwhelming effect of the details and in turn we can’t comprehend the details due to the overwhelming visual effect of the landscape…but here at Bryce Canyon, a meandering line of hoodoos emerges, defining the contours of earth, drawing us into the details of the landscape…hoodoos, trees, ridges, valleys, dry creek beds, Navajo sandstone, and snow. The textures are articulated in such a way that we can perceive the power of each brushstroke while marveling at the beauty of the painted earthen canvas.
I’ve always yearned for feel of wind in my hair… it is the single sensation of speed that leads, pulls, draws me toward flight and a physical feeling of a connection to the winds that lifts us into the air. As a child, I pursued it…now I dream of it, feeling the wind in my hair as it pounds the other side of the glass…speed, flight, and freedom.
[A Retrospective] Tséyíkʼáán. The fate of stone is to be laid bare by wind and rain, each feature exaggerated by these effects in time. Its essence exposed by advancing light as the dark ragged edges of night draw slowly across its face…Rising from earth into the light, but forever defined by shadow.
Pitch me to the sky and I will forever be a dreamer, filled with the elation that comes from being lifted on the breeze, moving through a world of light and color, touching the heavens without earthly tether. Introduce the dream of flight to a child and they will be forever free. Whether in their dreams or in their reality, a new way of imagining the world evolves and they will see the world differently…imagine floating above a field, flexing and stroking the air as bird on the wing, drifting and circling, moving ever faster…they are weightless, boundless, and free.
As we follow each other along the way, we are bound to fixate, to get stuck in a moment. The details and emotion of that moment filling our view with uncertainty, wonder, or concern and washing out all perception of the true world around us. Is it light or dark, good or bad, worry or elation?…We may not be able to discern without the tempering influence of peripheral vision and an awareness of where our anchors rest. But, surveying the scene, feeling our touchstones, finding our constants, we regain equilibrium and fly into a sky that is full of amazement…a sense of great elation filling the space in between small surprises…everything again flows and we move forward and out of the moment. That is when we realize the joy of filling our windshield with light and beauty and we cast only small glances behind us to inform our course with the lessons of our past.
[A Retrospective] We witness the intersection of the Paria and Colorado rivers…Imagining a clash of currents tumbling out of Paria Canyon and Glen Canyon, their combined energies carving Marble Canyon out of the plain…Yet there is silence…all the more deafening for its incongruity…The deep chasms before us are whispered echoes of a roaring past…a map of our youth…crows feet on the aging face of Earth.
We are wanderers in search of our place in a world that evolves at a rate out of step with that of our own accelerated existence. We find connections following the rippled edges of earth as though tracing the wrinkled corners of an aging loved one’s eyes. We can’t remember her youth, how she looked or how she laughed, but we cherish those smile lines and experience an existential sense of joy with each footstep along the trail.