I spend one morning out of thousands before me in Southern Utah, at the onset of winter. I found myself at one of the higher spots in Kolob Canyons. Rain had cleansed all views to clarity that of crystal, much like the sandstone that rose up in terrible might from the Escalante floor. A bitter front tore its way through Central Utah and was making its way here by now. To this vista -- where I sat exposed and waiting in meditative stance -- it sailed along Escalante, bending around Shuntavi Butte, rising up from the La Verkin ravines below and slammed into me. I sat, jacket removed, in the 40f morning. From where the wind came was gently sloping, lush-green hills below, which gave way to stolid redness, the canyons jutting impenetrably. I opened my tearing eyes to all of this, bright and sunflooded, while the torrent of air nearly froze my watery eyes and stole all sunwarmth. Though calm pervaded my being, the cutting ice on bare skin, winds so fierce on this frame, I was overcome and sought shelter after only minutes. Despite my stoic disregard for the cold, and attempting the inner-fire meditation which came easy in my relaxed state, I crumbled. The rock lying not far off endured it well, as it had for millenia.
The wind vanished, bringing artic winter back to S. Utah autumn after no more than a 2-minute walk back towards the canyons. Yellow dwarfed trees glowed content with the gathered light of the year, now waning. Redrock buttes, along with deep-green Junipers and Pines both scattered close up and lying like a thick carpet on the floor gave the most eternal feeling. A perpetual photo daunted time here, the racing, relentless madness of humanity set as a backdrop not even 3 miles away along Interstate-15. Travelers come here to appreciate the motionless-ness of this place, at least from a human time-scale. Many arrive, seeking, hoping, while slowly walking its sheltered crimson alcoves and azure skies, to take away a small portion of her timelessness, her wisdom. . . Back into our world of people and duties, where time is both friend and foe.
The wind vanished, bringing artic winter back to S. Utah autumn after no more than a 2-minute walk back towards the canyons. Yellow dwarfed trees glowed content with the gathered light of the year, now waning. Redrock buttes, along with deep-green Junipers and Pines both scattered close up and lying like a thick carpet on the floor gave the most eternal feeling. A perpetual photo daunted time here, the racing, relentless madness of humanity set as a backdrop not even 3 miles away along Interstate-15. Travelers come here to appreciate the motionless-ness of this place, at least from a human time-scale. Many arrive, seeking, hoping, while slowly walking its sheltered crimson alcoves and azure skies, to take away a small portion of her timelessness, her wisdom. . . Back into our world of people and duties, where time is both friend and foe.
