Sanctuary, Cobabe Canyon, Utah
We explore this fabric of terrain like a cricket might explore a
rumpled picnic blanket; disappearing into every shadow, crawling out of the
creases, looking around from the high places. My response to light is to move back into the cold, quiet protection of the the forest. Sam instinctively leaps from the
sharp edge of a limestone fold to an uncertain landing. Below him I swing to a
stop in a narrow drainage, choked by scrub willows. Above us, Thomas has given
little to gravity and slowly descends the ridge, waffling between sun and
shadow, stillness and wind, the aspens and firs. Sooner or later we’ll tumble
out of the canyon and tell our stories, share a ride up, and plan the next
adventure.
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