Forget where your feet are and simply enjoy the view.

The sunrise illuminates the buildings of downtown Dallas, Texas, casting long shadows westward, the misty morning air on the streets and the surface of the Trinity River reflect in a deep blue iridescence.
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Looking deeply into the abstract flow of the terrain along the desert floor below the mesa where Warner Ridge straddles Utah and Arizona’s edge lands…the rhythm of the lined earth draws us into the very soul of the place, so thin and revealing.
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As we round the earth and bear witness to the transition between night and day, we are reminded of the balance that exists between all things…Though in this night, we are consumed by the darkness and uncertainty that surrounds us, we will just as surely find comfort and solace as we are bathed in the light of dawn.
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Cruising southward along the Carolina coast at dawn, we look westward into the face of the weather we skirt…Amid the layers of cloud, we peer deeply into the space where our dawn lit Brocken Spectre radiates and reflects in the clouds’ surfaces and find an array of reflected beams and multicolored spectral patterns broken over the tops of the churning cloud deck beneath.
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While the eastern half of the United States is blanketed in clouds and drenched by heavy autumn rains, we get a completely different feel as we round Capitol Reef National Park in Utah…arid and colorful with only a hint of snow at the highest elevations, the landscape permanently displays the colors of autumn while the multi-textured ripples of earth provide us with an endless source of fascination.
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Amid a maze of rock pediments arrayed along the Virgin River, Bridge Mountain and East Temple frame the approach into Zion National Park as we peer up the Hepworth Wash. Autumn passes through Zion leaving its colors on the wind.
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Rolling off the Chesapeake into the heart of Virginia…and to no surprise, we find it orange and blue to the core.
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The gridlines of Oklahoma City fan across the landscape in a vain attempt to straighten the curvature of earth…as we travel with the way, flying great circle paths that magically shrink distances that gridlines cannot contain, the aerial horizon marks the line between what we believe we can control and the heavenly flow that defines everything we see.
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As we run along the base of the overcast, its misty fringes begin to obscure the setting sun and it casts a glow in the atmosphere, highlighting flow of the Rhappahannock River with dreamlike intensity.
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The sun dips below the horizon as we say goodnight to Virginia…Slipping the bonds of earth, we take our station in the ribbon of light that timelessly marks the boundary between night and day.
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Weather seemingly tiptoes across the Grand Canyon, slipping around the deep arid swaths of earth to drape its trailing showers over the high green terrain along the rim as if an attempt to wash away the greenery to reveal the colors of earth beneath.
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It is a vague line, yet also very precise…Daylight bleeds over the aerial horizon and overtakes the thin shadowy line of the terminator…this is where last night ended and today began over North Florida.
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We are caught in the space between night and day as the rotation of the earth and our movement east and west compresses and expands our concept of time…the only truth is that light and shadow are in constant balance…each day a new drama unfolds as we pass through the line that divides the two and experience the visual spectacle of that balance.

Night falls over West Virginia and our thoughts drift toward the horizon. Amid the fire of battle we can no better discern light from darkness than light from light, but as veterans, we look on from afar and see light and darkness divide and fall into place…from our our perspective we know those moments of glorious light like a flare upon the horizon differentiating the glory of a single moment in our past…we look back and see it for what it was…a tremendous moment when we were in our primes and gave forth our efforts without a thought to the personal consequences…for our moment, we were that brilliant flare on the horizon as the daylight fades out into night. Tomorrow, there will be fresh light with the same intensity and each new generation will have their day.

Crossing over Palo Duro Canyon, we touch the fringes of the canyon where the ancient thin place meets the gridded and tamed land of the modern plains.
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In the depths of the Grand Canyon, as the Colorado twists through the Hualapai Canyon, the Granite Spring rapids appear prominently in the seemingly smooth flowing water…they look out of place as if too stubborn to have washed away with the earth that once surrounded them.
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Paralleling the course of the Green River as we hemstitch the border between Utah and Wyoming, an undercast moves in, casting shadows across the Flaming Gorge reservoir…the combination of cloud and shadow creates a layered effect that divides the landscape into green, blue, white, and ochre swaths of color and light.
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Entombed in the sedimentary layers of earth at the confluence of the Green and Yampa rivers, the fossil remains of dinosaurs rest amid the colors and complex patterns of the water carved monument.
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Layer upon layer, the weather builds in the early morning light, its patterns varying with pockets of energy, latent heat, as moisture is stirred toward the heavens.
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The Colorado River bends around rocky buttresses, slowly shaping the seemingly immovable earth as it moves past Mount Simyala where Havasu Creek joins in its flow through the canyon.
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