A few months ago, I came home from college and discovered a new book on the kitchen counter. It was Ansel Adams' collection of National Park photos. I was immediately sucked in. I sat in the kitchen and glazed over each of his photographs, admiring the shadows and simplicity of his work with film.
Of course, I especially loved his photos of Grand Canyon.
After my twelve-day river trip through the grandest place on Earth, my mom and I spent a day hiking on the South Rim, and made it to Hopi Point for sunset. That was my goodbye to the Canyon. I went crazy with photos. My mom and I were the first ones there and the last ones to leave after the sun went down. I was doing my best Ansel Adams impression.
But during the last few moments of daylight, I was just trying to take it all in. The shadows. The desert sky. The river flowing, thousands of feet below. The colors of the steep canyon walls. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. Tears came to my eyes as I watched the sun's last rays disappear behind the canyon rim.
I thought of a moment, probably about a week before, when we were deep in the Earth. Pilar and Kristy had fallen asleep again during a long day of driving. I was sitting in the swamper's seat in the motor well with Chango, sharing our thoughts about life when we rounded a corner and he cut the motor. We just floated down the mighty Colorado and observed the evening unfold before us. The birds were madly chirping in the bushes, the sun cast shadows around every pinnacle, the water sparkled under the sinking sun.
He whispered, "Listen to the birds, the wind. Listen to what the river is saying to you."
It was so peaceful, so inviting, so inspiring. I fell in love with the Canyon all over again when I closed my eyes and listened for its voice.
I stood on the rim a week later, in a whole different world, and listened to the Canyon for the last time. It was a little different, with a crowd of people behind me all trying to capture the same moment.
I wasn't nearly as sad to leave as I was almost a year before. Instead I felt more self-aware than I had ever been before. This was where I was meant to be and what I was meant to do. The Grand Canyon. I'll be back; this isn't goodbye for long.