By the time the sun went down over the canyon rim and I was back in camp, the temperature had dropped from a lovely 75 degrees to a chilly 40. By the time I was tucked into my sleeping bag (thankfully it goes to zero degrees) after a quick dinner and a few minutes by the fire I had made, it was near freezing. In the night, I checked the temperature on my cell phone and it was a balmy 25 degrees. There’s a reason I don’t camp in the winter.

Although I stayed warm enough through the night, I coughed a lot in the cold air and awoke exhausted.

The sun was rising and I wanted to get some early morning shots of the canyon. At the rim, the canyon was quiet. The morning sun is so different than the sunset, both in depth of colors and in the mood it casts. The sunset is reflective, calming, and still. The sunrise is refreshing, vibrant, and awake.

There were very few people up at that time, and I was able to sit with my thoughts without interruption…

What came to me was how this trip has been all about perspectives… Heyokah. I could look at this trip as being awful, with getting sick, the cold weather moving across country as a sidekick, and not being able to camp, hike, and explore as I had planned. Meanwhile, how lucky and grateful am I for being able to embark on this journey? Regardless of how I’m stumbling along this path, I am thrilled with what I’m seeing, experiencing, and learning.

There are reminders of this perspective in the land – the spires in Zion, the depths of the Grand Canyon; the lush rain forests of the Redwoods and the blowing wind of Death Valley. All beautiful in their own unique way. Like the people I have seen and met. Diverse, of different countries, of different interests. All seeking beauty in nature, the spectacular and the still. I wish we could all step back and see the horizon with its infinite possibilities. Connecting with the creations of mother earth we can know the answers to all our problems. The perspective is there; we just have to look for it.

Watching the grandeur of the scene in front of me gave me a boost of energy. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. Packing camp was a struggle. It seemed like walking through molasses. An hour later I drove out of the park, with very little energy to spare. This cold was really knocking me out.

When I stopped to get groceries along the way and said something to the checker, I found I had virtually lost my voice. Although the head cold was gone, I was still coughing and my lungs felt completely full. I hadn’t licked it yet, and sleeping in cold weather probably hadn’t helped.

I had planned to go to Canyon De Chelley in eastern Arizona, then to Mesa Verde in southern Colorado. All I could think of was getting to a warm bed, so I drove to a hotel in Dove Creek that I had stayed at on my trip through that region in October. Camping was out due to a predicted freezing night.

I would head to my client’s ranch the next afternoon. It would give me a chance to get some work finished in the morning.

At the end of the day, I thanked the spirits for the way they are illuminating my path. I am grateful for their guidance, protection, and healing.

Aho,
Marilyn