Snake gulch canyon in arizona

I wrote this last year on the Signal Fire trip to Northern Arizona in Speing 2015:

The sun is going down and the vibrant sages and oranges of the canyon and brush are slowly changing to soothing greys. 

It is so quiet here. I feel like my head is the loudest sound in this canyon. I can hear the hum of my brain’s generator. 

The oranges are now muted tans. 

I don’t belong here. I am a trespasser. I hope this canyon can forgive the hum of my brain generator and the sound of pencil on paper. 

This is the most silence I’ve felt in a very long time. I wish it weren’t so brief. Aside from the cow lazily making its way across the valley, there is no movement and no sound. And I want my brain generator to go into idle. Even the bright orange of the ravine walls are cooling in hue.

Posted in: Art