There is nothing but red-eroding cliffs in all directions. As far as I can see there is only red, red mountains, red canyons. We are up early, with the sun, to explore the desert before the heat of the day. Arches National Park is a sea of burnt-orange boulders stacked on top of each other, precarious, beautiful, ancient. In this crumbling landscape, once an ocean floor now a dry and brittle expanse, I feel overwhelmed, small, in awe of nature, time, geology. Moab, Utah, is carved by two rivers, the Green River and the Colorado River. The pressure of water over stone for years and years and years has sculpted these canyons, chiseling and carving magnificent shapes into the land. This journey, this cross-country trip, has instilled in me a profound sense of appreciation for the earth, for the ecological diversity of this country. Here, in the desert, water has never tasted so sweet. Shade has never been so cool. A breeze has never been more refreshing. Time is still. There is nothing but heat, sand, stone, red mountains and canyons reaching into eternity. 
Delicate Arch
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