September has flown by & my time in Zion is over. I have given Grotto house back to the canyon; it sits quietly awaiting its next inhabitant who will fill its sandstone embrace with their personality & creative endeavors.
I did not do the extreme things most visitors to Zion have on their punch list—crawl up to Angel’s Landing or one of the other gravity defying hikes or slosh through the slot of the Narrows—but my senses are full. After walking the quiet river path & strolling along the canyon road over time I came to know things about “my” little part of Zion that will be held in my heart & memory forever.
My eyes have seen baked red & cream cliffs served up against aching blue skies, standing black against blue velvet nights, & screaming with the glory of gushing waterfalls.
My ears have heard the soft tap of deer hooves strolling by, the cascading song of canyon wren & cascading chatter of mountain chickadees as I wove quietly in my Grotto studio, the quiet tumble of the Virgin River over its course, & the mad rush when it churned into a chocolate boulder slushy after storms. The wondrous echoing growl of canyon thunder cannot be described with mere words, its has to be experienced.
I have smelled the sweet scent of tall grasses, the greenness of fall wildflowers, hot earth, the frog belly coolness of wet sand, & the pungent aroma of ring-tailed cat.
I have felt at different times & sometimes all at once enthralled, lonely, joyful, inspired, vibrating with energy, tired as hell. I have laughed. I have cried. I have learned how to deal with unexpected guests.
September’s end, I reluctantly left the sensual sanctuary that is Zion. At the same time, I eagerly anticipated returning home to my desert. To return to my studio & put to use all I have learned during my time in the Grotto. I am looking forward to the magic that will surely be woven on my loom.