“All this is the music of waters.” ~ John Wesley Powell, 1895, referring to Zion National Park.

Being on the road gives you plenty of time to think, especially the stretch of eastern Arizona that spans from the Grand Canyon to the Four Corners area. The road cuts through Navajo Nation, passing from mesa to mesa, steadily climbing through red sand deserts, an occasional rock formation breaking the otherwise barren vista. Spring has brought rain, causing a light layer of green to pop up along the gullies where flash floods race. Water is scarce, but when it does appear, the results of its influence are magnificent.

Thursday, I finally felt strong enough to leave the motel in Hurricane, Utah and head east toward Zion National Park. Before I left, I found that my new digital camera was not working correctly. I liked the camera enough, but found some things that I would rather have different, so decided to take it back to Best Buy, which I had seen nearby, and return it, not having the strength or interest to research a different camera. I still have my Canon Film SLR and my Droid, which does a good video, although the photos it takes aren’t so good, so I decided to go on without digital at my fingertips. As a result, I’ll be getting photos of this portion of the trip posted later.

As I entered Zion, I remembered why I love this park so much. This was my fourth time through the park. I had hoped to be strong enough to take one of my favorite hikes of all time, to Angel’s Landing, a steep climb to a pinnacle that overlooks the entire park. It’s a hair-raising climb on a 2-foot wide trail that drops down thousands of feet on either side. At the top, the view is dizzying, the river flowing through the valley floor from that view looks like a string of ribbon dropped on the floor. Unfortunately, still weak from the cold, I could only drive through this time.

While the Grand Canyon drops deep, creating an expansive crevice in the earth, Zion goes the opposite way in the same distances. The red cliffs and the towering pinnacles tower thousands of feet into the blue skies. Life in Zion flows from the Virgin River, creating an oasis in the desert, forcefully shaping the walls that create lush green canyons. The name Zion is Hebrew for refuge, evoking its place in the sanctuary of the southwestern desert, harboring a mosaic of plants, animals, and spectacular views.

At one point, I stopped to take pictures. I heard voices above me, and looked up to see rock climbers scaling the cliff. They were like specks of dust on the huge rock face. A couple from California had also stopped. We chatted for a while, wondering what motivates someone to do something like that. I’m fascinated by their desire to scale walls of this magnitude, but have no interest in trying it myself.

The vermillion, white, and pink cliffs of Zion are at the edge of the Grand Staircase, the southwestern edge of the Colorado Plateau. If you go north from here, you would pass through Bryce Canyon and on to Escalante, Capitol Reef, Dead Horse Creek Canyon, and Arches, all in southern Utah. Going south, you head to the Grand Canyon. I was headed south.