The grandest canyon of all

 

I've been looking at my blog entries from our earlier visits to the Grand Canyon, and I realize I can't say anything I haven't said before: this place remains as awe-inspiring as when I first gazed down into its unfathomable depths, the play of light and shadow on the layers upon layers of rock, the way the sun, rising or setting, defines sharp contours of cliffs as if they are rising out of some primeval darkness. What more can I say? Even in the snow, in a way we never experienced it before, all this holds true.

Walking was more treacherous – we definitely needed our crampons whenever the trails were steep – and the sky was cloudy part of the time, we got wet and cold in sleet and rain showers. The amount of people, always huge here, I suspect, still didn't affect me in the same way as in Zion, maybe because they spread out more, or maybe because the same awe I felt is palpable everywhere.

Early morning

 

I think that this time I'll let the photos speak for themselves, from rim walks to a hike down to Cedar Ridge, from sunrise to sunset to the dramatic display of rain clouds on the way back from Desert View and the tower built by Mary Colter, the architect of several buildings on the south rim of the Grand Canyon, including Hermit's Rest and Hopi House.

Getting close to sunset

Afterglow right after the sun has set

At Desert View on the east side

Will we ever return here? A bit wistful, as every time we leave a place I have come to love and ask myself that question, I said goodbye to the Seven Mile Lodge on the last morning. But new adventures were awaiting. Maybe we could even finally shake the snow for good, or at least for the next couple of weeks or so.