Rumbling and gushing vibrated in my ears as we wound through the Rocky mountains. Hektor swung his sword against the Achaians in the great battle of the wooden horse, as my eyes glanced between page and precipice. I could smell the undesirable odor of air conditioning. I prefer to travel with windows full open and the air blasting my hair back like a dog with his head out the window.
We rose at 3 am. Started down the Grand Canyon at 4 am. It felt like walking into an abyss. The sun began its ascent at 5:45 am. Then I surveyed the massive majesty of God. I saw His illustration of Psalm 19. The experience of hiking into the Canyon early in the morning is comparable to none. I felt like singing to God with all my strength, it was so beautiful.
Far from civilization, I learned to take comfort in and thank the Lord for the little blessings. Especially for the cool creek at the bottom of the Canyon in 130 degree weather. I would sit among the stones and observe the other hikers around me, who were enjoying nature’s refreshing delight. Recording the the moments in my little, purple journal, I gazed up at the cliffs that raggedly rose all around me.
Soft light impressed its way over the rim of the canyon. For the time being it was cool and comfortable, a dreamy haze filled my eyes as I thought about where I was. I knew the heat would be blasting it’s way down the rocks soon, and the soft chill air would dissipate into dry, dusty, warm oxygen. But I relished waking up to a gorgeous blue sky, framed by the clay colored cliffs and sparse, green branches.