The Grand Canyon

My first impression of the Grand Canyon was that it was a sly, cheeky sort of entity. When my family and I were driven in, the terrain was so flat that I could have sworn we were in back in Canada, driving in Saskatchewan. The sort of flat that lets you see something coming from three days away.

The canyon seemed to appear out of nowhere, dropping off violently into sheer cliff faces only when we were close enough to be in real danger of falling in. I maintain that if we had driven in ourselves or at night, we would have driven right in!

Once you take in the scenery though, you come to realise it was because you didn’t know what you were looking for. Subtle distinctions in rock faces, that perhaps in dusks’ low light your eyes didn’t manage to capture.

This is one place you don’t want to forget your camera, especially if, like we did, you plan on staying overnight. You’ll get amazing shots everywhere you go, and don’t forget to check out the sky bridge, where you can look straight down through the glass floor to the bottom of the canyon!

It’s been more than a decade since I’ve been there, so my memory of it is a bit fuzzy, but there was one moment there that made it truly magical.

A small group of tourists, my family, and I were standing near the edge of the canyon where the sky bridge is located, admiring a glowing sunset. It was so beautiful, and most of us were looking in that direction when Dad had the wisdom to look over his shoulder to see what was behind us. There, rising over the canyon itself, the moon in all it’s pallid splendor was going ignored.

Dad, also a better photographer than me, began taking shots, and soon I began to hear the gasps of the other tourists as they realised what had been behind us all along. It was an easily learned lesson; look behind you, you never know what’s hiding there!

That wasn’t the magical moment, though. That came when my Dad noticed another tourist who had set up a tripod and was taking pictures of the sunset. We assumed he didn’t speak English, or he would have heard us fawning over the moon, so knowing that he would miss a good shot, Dad tapped him on the shoulder and pointed behind him. The man looked awestruck, seemed to thanked my Dad, and began to rearrange his tripod.

Sunset or Moonrise, you can decide for yourself which you prefer, but for me the true moment of beauty was how happy the man looked when Dad showed him the moon.

Are there any moments of kindness you’ve encountered in your travels? Let me know in the comments!