Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Canyon Lands

There is a great and swift river that flows across a green valley.  It gathers clear, cold water from the snow melt of the high mountains to the north and carries it southwards, rambling through valleys, down hills and across plains into the mysterious land of the canyons.

Follow the river as enters the hills leading to the canyons.  The rocks here are banded in soft, beautiful colors: greys, blues, yellows, rust, cream, tan, even a soft violet.  As you enter the deep, narrow canyon, look up.  Around you is time laid out for your enjoyment and study.  Each layer represents a time period, each change of color and texture is the end one thing and the beginning of something else.  Some of these changes have been gradual, you cannot tell for certain where one layer ends and the next begins, though you see a slow progression to a new stone.  Other changes are sudden, sharp lines and violent juxtaposition.

Beside you the river patient cuts through the rocks, exposing new truths about the past.  The sun does not reach you where you stand, but ahead, it lights the scene like a spotlight.  Vegetation is sparse and the animals that inhabit this landscape are quiet, secretive, subtle.

Step into the harsh, bright light shining down from above and let your sight adjust.  Do you see anything differently?  Are there petroglyphs or fossils? Mine shafts, ruins?  Can you read your past in the layers before you or do you identify with the river, slowly making it's way to its destination and shaping the world as it passes?