Blog
Window To The Sky: Arches National Park
The postcards do not show the smooth crater like a black hole threatening to suck the arch away into the center of the earth; nor the breathtaking and treacherous view beyond its keyhole. A rounded frame, it holds within itself the desert’s deadly beauty, which—akin to Galadriel in Lord of the Rings—bellows, “All will love me and despair!” My awe is tempered by caution as the empty deadness warns us of what we’ll become should we get lost or misstep.
A Grove In A Graveyard: Capitol Reef National Park
Travelers named this desert Capitol Reef before they’d known water once dwelt there. As we drive between the towering red cliffs that once barred ancient wanderers passage, I imagine marine wildlife swimming alongside us through the mummified ocean. Our campsite lies nestled against lush fruit orchards planted by Mormon settlers—an unexpected oasis amid the scorched, dry land; a grove in a graveyard. I smile at the familiar agricultural sight, as a horse trots picturesquely around the pioneers’ historic barn—so out of place against the copper desert backdrop.
A Mortal Among Seraphim: Hiking Angel's Landing in Zion National Park
The hot desert sun and thin mountain air have made good on their reputations long before we’ve even reached the base of the fin-like formation that juts 1,500 feet out of the canyon. I gasp for breath and wipe sweat from my brow, trying not to think about the sign we pass that warns me not to be the fourteenth fall since 2004.
There’s Something About Zion
There’s something about Zion National Park. It is the something that I saw in your eyes, glazed over with longing. Something that hugged your heart like the comfort of a mother’s bosom and whispered, return to me. I didn’t understand it, until she embraced me herself. Now I know.
Chasing Ghosts on Skyline Drive to Shenandoah National Park
I drive alone on black roads coiling like a snake ‘round misty blue mountains, rendered flat by haze, with nothing and no one for company but the blissful expanse of nature. I emerge from my parked vessel to stand in the middle of it and stare down a long, echoing tunnel that splits the cliff, tempting fate as the tremendous roar of an oncoming car reaches my ears. As I sprint to safety, the sound fades into the distant calls of crows and miniature waterfalls trickling down the mountain’s face.
Fleeting, Yet Forever: Hiking Millbrook Mountain in Minnewaska State Park
By the end of today I will say to myself: “Why did I have to climb so high?” For my ambition will end in stinging blisters and aching arches as I descend this mountain; but for now, I ignore the warning voice that tells of temperance, and I rise. I rise to where the sky is wide as the sea, where birds fly below me and treetops—speckled with every shade of autumn—look like shrubbery. Here, I can see my mortality in the treacherous edge of the cliff, and my spirit in the hazy blue horizon. We are both fleeting, yet forever.
A Taste of Rivendell: Watkins Glen State Park, NY
The serpent ravine bloats and shrinks in billowing pockets hollowed out of the rock by years of erosion, smooth as the sugar of a well-licked lollipop. Each bowl is filled with emerald green pools caked with foam. Clattering echoes bounce between them amid the distant roar of rushing waves as I peer over the treacherous rim.