Even though my sandals were worn out, I could not leave the red canyon behind. There was big cottonwood monsters in the river bottoms. The sand and air was warm. It was a frying pan, beneath the desert sun. The locusts buzzed like power lines, and the wind whipped those magnificent Cottonwoods. I even heard the mourning dove repeat his lonely call, over and over. Everything was so peaceful. I couldn’t leave the red canyon. I wanted to be there forever, even when the winter snows came…

…In the sage brush valleys of the Great Basin, I look out across them and they are some of the most isolated areas on the planet, and covered in fierce beauty. To the untrained eye, they would be nothing but useless desert. Cloud ships journey and cast their dark shadows upon the sage. When I am not physically in the Great Basin, these valleys are in my head, and in my dreams.

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