Yesterday, having arrived very late in pitch darkness at the campgrounds at Capitol Reef, I made haste to boil some water with a mini camp stove for a quick meal before curling into the the car to brave the night’s deep chill of these high canyon country. For a while, unable to sleep due to the cold, I marveled at the starlight shimmering through the barren branches of late-winter. The stars were shining beautifully, weaving their line through the lattice-like branches; though sleep was uneasy due to the severe cold, I lodged no complaint on this rare occasion to be at one with the natural order of things.
Before first light, I’d already awoken. No birds chirped, and all was quiet save for my calm breaths filling the lungs with brisk air. For some moments, I remained in almost solemn meditation to await dawn. Slowly, the passing minutes saw the break of day brighten with a subtle rise in temperature; and before 7:30am I revved the engines to warm myself and started the drive to explore the russet cliffs of Capitol Reef.
The park itself is not vast, and the cliffs are neither too imposing, nor too bold; and yet, there was a unique beauty in the play of light and shadow of these red cliffs’ reflection of the winter sun. For some while, I meandered along the pave road, stopping every so often to capture a few photos of the picturesque environs. Every cliff and angle had their own story to tell…of the many years they had witnessed of the passing of sun and moon; through flood and storm, and elemental erosion by the attrition of time. In time, the road transitioned to a wash road, and my wheels slowly rumbled over the uneven terrain, wharving around rocks and depressions.
