Greetings from Grand Canyon National Park

A few years ago, I came face to face with the sublime in the Grand Canyon. I was on an 8-day rafting down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. The river encircled the terra cotta colored walls like an emerald serpent. I spent time sitting in the “tea room” or the highest spot on the raft for the best view. The canyon walls rose on either side, on average, to three miles high. The walls changed moment by moment in shade, shape, and height. It was as though I were seeing lives unfold, lives from stories that went back thousands of years. I saw a panorama of human history, people plodding by, seeking to satisfy an inextinguishable desire. Here and there their paths were broken by an altar to an ancient god, or a city gate, or even battalions of armored men on horseback, bristling with banners and lances. But in the end always these people emerged, a vast anonymous group who never stopped marching. They were the everyday people in history, plundered but never exhausted. Hordes of them settled continents, farmed wilderness, won wars, and rebuilt cities: the earth’s nameless but powerful.

Sincerely,
Carol Morgan