Night of stories

September 10, 2005
8:39 p.m.
Grand Canyon

I walked back to the rim of the canyon this evening and tried to catch the sunset.

Darkness covered the woods when I came back. The moonlight, however, peeped behind the branches.

I passed by a small clearing. I heard the cracking of burning pine trees. I was freezing. I stopped.

People were sitting around a campfire. A man was telling stories.

I sat and listened.

The man talked about death, about life, about connecting with nature, about joy and about beauty.

He talked about how his uncle died in the canyon in the 1930s. He told us about how he survived a near death experience, how he cried when he came back for the first time after so many years, the happiness people feel by just being here and how they keep coming back to wonder at the beauty of nature.

There were more stories. There were more lessons.

I walked away from the campfire through the woods back to my lodge. The stars were shining and the moon was my guide.

I feel like I’m in a temple, a church, a museum, a library.