Forget where your feet are and simply enjoy the view.

Is there any wonder why the first people viewed the earth with a sense of mysticism? As we cross the Arizona desert, a wild horse emerges from a solitary lake, galloping into the desert. We are at the nexus imagination, inspiration, and the spirit of Earth.
In the mountains of southwest North Carolina, the Highlands, the summer morning clouds cling to the river valleys and mountain lakes…Sunlight illuminates the cloud tops and, while warming the morning air, sets the weather in motion…Drifting clouds and fog move slowly across the landscape to create a waking dream for those lucky enough to awaken in this high country.

Dry creek beds flow in the desert breeze as if branches swaying while shadows of cirrus clouds fall like leaves on the desert floor.

Stone swirls in white and red, moving in place, a whirlwind. Look for it on a map and you will find the animation of earth in the embodied in this place…Whirlwind.

Among my favorite places, where I have never visited, are the Adeii Eechii Cliffs in the Navajo back country…they present some of the most unusual lines and patterns, abstract and other-worldly, yet they are connected to other cliffs and dramatic features that define this corridor into the heart of America. As we trace the irregular path of the Adeii Eechii Cliffs northward, they run into the Echo Cliffs and thence into the Vermilion Cliffs that stand above the Colorado River where it runs through Marble Canyon before entering the Grand Canyon…each feature unique…each feature interconnected…each feature, in telling the story of Earth, tells the story of us…each one of us unique…each one if us interconnected by a divine way.

Approaching Yosemite, something doesn’t look right about the morning mist…we expect to see it clinging to the sharp edges of the narrow valleys and spilling over the lower summits…but something is wrong…the clouds, in an otherwise cloudless sky, lay out in a thick blanket over the lower elevations where we should only see ground fog. There is a purple jaundiced-brown moire in the texture of the cloud deck, like the tarry residue on a smoker’s hands.
So, we look for the edge of the cloud and find its genesis, a raging wildfire from multiple columnar points along the western boundary of Yosemite National Park.

This horrid smokey layer clovers hundreds of miles, blotting out the sun in the forest and obscuring the dramatic landscape from above… Campers and hikers beware…Firefighters, be careful out there as you do the yeoman’s work; your work is noble and we are counting on you.
As we round the Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument, the colors and shapes of the rising terrain layered with clouds and their shadows cast upon the canyon, we get the sense of some marvelous pool of color and texture floating in the troposphere awaiting a passing traveler to imprint this grand marbling on his imagination.

Sinking into our souls, a crisp white line of hopeful morning clouds hovers below the aerial horizon, a solitary plume of white, floating on an indigo sea of twilight.

Exploring America outside of the confines of tourist attractions, cities, and towns, we discover vast expanses that seem hidden in plain sight and stand as another world for our imaginations to consume. The great wide open, the great outdoors, the great beyond…in every expression, we invoke greatness, but the words always seem inadequate to describe the spectacle.

Amid the steeply rising terrain of the Kanab, a figure emerges etched in stone and sprawling across the high plain.

Summer has come to Colorado. The vast network of Steamboat’s ski slopes shows the rich green of summer, fortified by the memory of the winter’s abundant snow.

The volcano’s latent energy, resting in plain sight, is awe-inspiring. Every once in a while, these sleeping giants will stir, blowing off a little steam, and commensurate ash, into the atmosphere… power and pressure constrained by the landscape at once expressed into the atmosphere as the earth seeks to maintain equilibrium, providing a momentary glimpse into earth’s past and the genesis of our world.
This image shows Popocatépetl, south of Mexico City, as it let loose a little steam and ash…a simple reminder on the horizon that we must be vigilant and revere volcanoes for the hazards they introduce into our world aloft, even as they rest.

Cruising over the Great Basin, the rock formations are myriad, but ascertaining the names of these individual rocks on the “lunar” landscape of Nevada becomes a challenging task…Instead of worrying about the names, we focus on the horizon and marvel at the stark, yet graceful, harmony that this earthly landscape provides.
From deep in the belly of the Copper Canyons, a rolling wave begins…Churning and swirling, the roll and yaw of a great wave of moisture, lifting itself up to the rim, unable to overcome the gravitational force of the canyon, it remains trapped…a moving mass of cloud, immense and dynamic, like a landlocked sea of vapor, rolling in a fluid dance of frustrated energy, bringing a new life to the arid landscape.

Where the Sea of Cortez meets the soil running off of the desert of Sonora in a twisted jumble of watery vines.

Trapped under a thin canopy of sky, as the dawn illuminates the atmosphere, our two horizons become evident…One, fixed and concrete, the one that we all march toward in our moments on earth…The other vague and ethereal, the one that we cast our eyes upon as we move through the heavens searching to discriminate between rightside-up and upside-down…At this moment the rising sun pauses in the space between and gives us a clarifying view of our reality and our inspiration.

In and around the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation, wildfires burn on ridges and in remote canyons. Another scene of fires burning in this hot season in North America. Some fires start naturally, others are helped by our carelessness…Never knowing what conditions we may find along the trail, let’s be careful out there and resolve to be good stewards of everyplace over which our footsteps fall.
We share a reverence for the power of the storm…Weather is everywhere…It can be predicted and charted using scientific methods and yet its power is routinely underestimated by the people in its path…When in doubt, go around it, far around it, avoiding it altogether…because in the calm of a warm summer afternoon there is one simple truth, storms will develop out of nowhere and unleash their explosive power upon those who lack the wisdom to steer clear.

While my town enjoys their fireworks display this evening, I am on the road and have to make the best of what the heavens provide. Whether sundogs, rainbows, or Brocken spectres, the revolving light displays fill our hearts with warmth, excitement, and joy for simply being alive.
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| The Aerial Horizon |
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| Aviation, Travel, Photography |