the difference a day can make
Journeys and Connections and the Lessons they Bring
One of the things I will continue to stress throughout this blog is that there are lessons in everything we do. And the more connected we are, the more faithful to the journey we are on, the more obvious the lessons will be. When we are connected the way we are supposed to be, then the lessons come, whether we want to heed them or not. And this first story is about being on a journey, seeking connection, and not getting it until I learned a little lesson in patience.
The images in the previous blog (and this one) were taken, as I said, during a vacation my husband and I went on in April several years back to the Grand Canyon, Sedona and Phoenix. We spent two warm days in Phoenix after we arrived and then set out in our rental car for the Grand Canyon.
After several hours on the road we both began to notice, but not with any real attention, that the skies were graying over. At one stop about an hour from the Canyon, I got out of the car to stretch and was shocked at the blast of icy cold air that hit me, even more brisk after the cozy cocoon of isolation in the car. After our stop we continued towards the Canyon and much to my surprise it began to snow and before I knew it we were creeping along thickly covered roads, laughing to see cactus plants buried deep in the snow as thickly falling flakes obscured visibility. Shaking our heads at our sheer ignorance in not bothering to check the weather before we left (who knew it would snow this heavily in April?) we barely managed to make it onto the park grounds where we were staying (at the Bright Angel Lodge directly on the edge of the South Rim) before the park itself was closed due to poor road conditions.
I was thrilled that we had made it and despite not having a stitch of warm clothing with me (other than flimsy gloves and windbreaker) I was anxious to take the camera outside to the edge of the Canyon and just breathe in the beauty (and snap a few photos) before it got completely dark. Intending to do just that, I walked to the primary overlook outside the lodge and was absolutely astonished to see....nothing. I could see nothing but fog and snow in front of me. And I was SO mad. Livid really. I was thinking furiously to myself that I did not travel 3000 miles to NOT be able to see the Grand Canyon! And who knew when this snow would let up?
Frustrated beyond words, as only a photographer who senses a missed opportunity can be, I consoled myself as best I could with Aaron's company in the lodge bar for a few hours. The live music, cozy atmosphere and mulled wine dulled the edge of my irritation. And later, returning to the cold bedroom with nothing but a windbreaker and thin gloves for warmth on the way, I was hoping this would not be the sum total of our time in the canyon!
Early the next morning we woke to the sound of birds twittering (they always twitter in the morning) and bright sunshine. I threw on my clothes, ran outside, and Voila! there before me lay the entire Canyon, clear as crystal and stretching forever, with this layer of white on everything. So for the next 8 hours I dragged Aaron along the entire South Rim on foot and took a million pictures, because I knew this was a chance that I would not likely ever have again. So that is the origin of the pictures - and the lesson - to be patient and be aware of the difference a day can make.
One of the things I will continue to stress throughout this blog is that there are lessons in everything we do. And the more connected we are, the more faithful to the journey we are on, the more obvious the lessons will be. When we are connected the way we are supposed to be, then the lessons come, whether we want to heed them or not. And this first story is about being on a journey, seeking connection, and not getting it until I learned a little lesson in patience.
The images in the previous blog (and this one) were taken, as I said, during a vacation my husband and I went on in April several years back to the Grand Canyon, Sedona and Phoenix. We spent two warm days in Phoenix after we arrived and then set out in our rental car for the Grand Canyon.
After several hours on the road we both began to notice, but not with any real attention, that the skies were graying over. At one stop about an hour from the Canyon, I got out of the car to stretch and was shocked at the blast of icy cold air that hit me, even more brisk after the cozy cocoon of isolation in the car. After our stop we continued towards the Canyon and much to my surprise it began to snow and before I knew it we were creeping along thickly covered roads, laughing to see cactus plants buried deep in the snow as thickly falling flakes obscured visibility. Shaking our heads at our sheer ignorance in not bothering to check the weather before we left (who knew it would snow this heavily in April?) we barely managed to make it onto the park grounds where we were staying (at the Bright Angel Lodge directly on the edge of the South Rim) before the park itself was closed due to poor road conditions.
I was thrilled that we had made it and despite not having a stitch of warm clothing with me (other than flimsy gloves and windbreaker) I was anxious to take the camera outside to the edge of the Canyon and just breathe in the beauty (and snap a few photos) before it got completely dark. Intending to do just that, I walked to the primary overlook outside the lodge and was absolutely astonished to see....nothing. I could see nothing but fog and snow in front of me. And I was SO mad. Livid really. I was thinking furiously to myself that I did not travel 3000 miles to NOT be able to see the Grand Canyon! And who knew when this snow would let up?
Frustrated beyond words, as only a photographer who senses a missed opportunity can be, I consoled myself as best I could with Aaron's company in the lodge bar for a few hours. The live music, cozy atmosphere and mulled wine dulled the edge of my irritation. And later, returning to the cold bedroom with nothing but a windbreaker and thin gloves for warmth on the way, I was hoping this would not be the sum total of our time in the canyon!
Early the next morning we woke to the sound of birds twittering (they always twitter in the morning) and bright sunshine. I threw on my clothes, ran outside, and Voila! there before me lay the entire Canyon, clear as crystal and stretching forever, with this layer of white on everything. So for the next 8 hours I dragged Aaron along the entire South Rim on foot and took a million pictures, because I knew this was a chance that I would not likely ever have again. So that is the origin of the pictures - and the lesson - to be patient and be aware of the difference a day can make.
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