Remembering the canyon

Jilda and I went to Sedona, Arizona several years ago for our anniversary. We'd heard about Sedona through friends who promised us we'd love the area. They were right.

We stayed at a small place on the edge of town in cottages that were rustic and felt good. I could smell the pine in the rough hewn logs used to build the cabins. The first night we slept with the windows open so the cool spring breeze would blow across us while we slept.

On the nightstand was a journal we thought someone had left. When we looked inside, it was a journal placed there by the owners of the cottages. Guests were encouraged to write something for the reading pleasure for those who followed. 

Reading back through the entries, we found funny notes, some that were simply the names of guests and the dates of their stay. Others were well-written posts that were poignant and moving. We tried to write something of substance, but who knows if our words hit the mark? 

One day we headed out through Flagstaff and on to the Grand Canyon. We'd seen it from the tiny porthole window of an aircraft 5-miles in the sky, but it was the first time we'd seen it up close and personal. It took my breath away.

I didn't have much to write about tonight so I flipped back through old photographs and came across the picture below...a post was born.