We approached the canyon. There was already a feeling of change in the air, like we had gone through an invisible gate to another world. The suburbs and the city were completely out of range and out of sight. Just the sky and the earth. The river we paralleled sparkled like jade through the shadows of the aromatic pines. I felt as if I could scoop up a handful of water and it would turn into gemstones. The rocks and hills rang out in their own powerful glory. I was so humbled in this organic tapestry woven by the Great Artist. I saw a frozen pond and felt the energy of life creeping around it just waiting on the verge of springtime. The days brought indigo skies and warm, sunny, freedom. The nights brought bright stars and a comforting blanket of silence. The moss on the trees spoke to my soul as if to say it had one, too. The air was life. I could only become more alive when I breathed it in. I began to grow in slow, steady rhythm with the forest. I existed only as it did. There was no other way to persist. To share the enchanting beauty was majestic and surreal. We were patches of morning mist, suspended just above the vital soil.