Reflections

     Could I ever grow tired of a sunset, that mystical end to each day? Could it ever loose its awe, its peace? The last rays of sunlight making their way across the horizon, lighting up the cliffs facing their descent, shadowing the mountains and mesas in the distance. This earth, pure inspiration to embrace. When God was done, He saw that it was good. I think maybe He underestimated himself.

                       

     Another picturesque morning, waking up underneath the sprawling arms of a cottonwood, the sun slowly creeping over the horizon of slick rock domes. Down in this canyon, there is still a chill in the air left over from last night, but as the sun’s rays reach my face, I cannot help but want to crawl out of my bag. The morning is so peaceful here, so calm. All I hear are the chirping birds starting their day, and the rustle of leaves as a slight breeze passes through them. The contrast of their bright, vibrant green against the surrounding red rock is beautiful, pleasing not only to my eyes but to my soul as well. This land of canyons has fascinated and captivated the hearts and minds of many before me, and here I sit as they did, feeling powerless to its draw.

The sun slowly slides behind a distant western ridge, its purple, pink, and orange glow still lingering in the evening sky. The colors bleed into one another, making it impossible to discern where one begins and another ends. As I lean back, sitting against the moss covered trunk of a downed tree, I can feel the warmth from the fire on my face. The flames dance from side to side with the ebb and flow of a crisp spring breeze. I take another sip of fresh pressed coffee from my mug, savoring its rich, dark, earthy tones, savoring this moment as well. The stillness is intoxicating. The crackle of the fire, the wind in the trees, and the soothing hoot of a nearby owl all add to the sense of peace that is gently infiltrating my body and mind. I let out a deep, long breathe, my eyes slowly close, and it is as if every muscle in my body exhales with me. After another sip of coffee, steam rises from the opening in the lid of my mug. My eyes follow it upwards, and I now notice the half full moon directly above me and the handful of stars that have begun making their heavenly positions known. The branches of the trees are raised and outstretched like arms, praising and welcoming the darkening night sky. A better script for the day’s end could not have been written by even the most talented of play writes nor reproduced on the grandest of movie screens. There is no substitute for nature. Creation cannot be outdone. I sit in humble awe. The crackle of the fire, the wind in the trees, and the soothing hoot of a nearby owl. I am blessed to be a witness.