Travelogue

Part Three:

Grand indeed

“Who the hell
Books a trip to the Grand Canyon                                                

when they have chronic vertigo?”
The thought flashed through my mind
Less than a week before I left
On my journey

                                                                       
Through Sedona,
the Painted Desert
Flagstaff
on a highway
in a van
on a tour
To get there.

The day was
a bit grey
and cloudy
and suddenly
very very windy
Perfect
for less tourists
more viewing space

I stepped out
of the van
And there it was.
The woman next to me said “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“No,” I said, “Actually, it looks like a painted movie backdrop.”
It took some time
for my eye
to connect
to my mind
and my mind
to wrap around
The ubiquitous vastness 

I had viewed in                                                              
photographs
films
paintings
t-shirts

Formations called
Vishnu’s Throne
Shiva
Deva
Named by a cartographer
who loved India
and it’s temples.

The wind
whipped
the heavy gray
and fluffy white clouds
across a clear blue sky
casting rapidly dancing shadows
Like watching a time lapsed film
Peaks and plateaus
played hide and seek.
In the distance
grey showers
poured into chasms.

It was sacred
It was ethereal
It was humbling.

The Grand Canyon
is more                                                              

than you can fathom.

The sun shone brightly
and it hailed
Small perfect frozen
white specks.

The ride home    
we ran parallel
with a smudge colored
dust storm.
I watched
tumbleweeds
roll
across the highway.

My life was
changed.

in loving memory of Jacob- the brightest star in the Canyon.