You see, I've been through the desert . . .

. . . on a horse with no name

On the first part of the our journey #2500mi

I was looking at all the life #frommycarwindow

There were plants and birds and rocks and things #mostlyrocks

There was sand and hills and rings #norings

-A Horse With No Name by America

The thing about vacations is, that when you haven't been on one in a while (a long, long while), you might try to cram too much into your allotted time frame. The downside to that is you just don't get enough time in any one place, but the bonus to that (and thankfully there is one), is that you get to see many things and then you can decide where you want to go back and spend more time. 

This is one of those places for me....

This was our last day in Arizona before heading back home and we had just finished a tour through a slot canyon and this place was only 10 minutes from there. And I'm SO glad we didn't decide to skip this!

Horseshoe Bend, Glen Canyon

When we arrived at the parking lot, we were at the bottom of a large hill.  Once we climbed the hill (thank you new hiking shoes) we quickly realized there would be some more walking involved until we reached the awe-inspiring bend in the Colorado River. About 1.5 miles round trip to be exact, up and down a very sandy hill and across a sandstone incline.

So away we went....and if you look really, really closely (you might need a magnifying glass) you can see dots of people way in the distance. There are some even sitting and standing that very large sandstone hill on the right. And beyond that are the Paria Plateau and Vermillion Cliffs. 

As we got closer to the bottom it got a little bumpier as it alternated between the sand and the slopping Navajo Sandstone. Now you can see those people a little better. Sure gives a perspective of how far away 3/4 of a mile is.

So, one thing you should know about me is that I'm deathly afraid of heights. I get chills up and down the backs of my legs and feel a bit disoriented, and just looking at a picture will do the same thing. And, you have to understand that there are NO railings here whatsoever...you are on your own, at the mercy of a gust of wind or someone else standing close to you. This explains why my son went on ahead of us...he was sparing me some stress, and he has heard the lecture of how NOT to stand too close to the edge. Really, the whole thing just freaks me out.

And the next thing I know, my daughter hands my son her phone and says take a picture of me laying within an inch of my life on a narrow strip of sandstone? Seriously?

So, I find a spot that gives me enough room to get this shot without (hopefully) rolling off the edge myself, 'cause I do get in the zone when I have that camera up to my eye! 

She says to me...mom, this view is amazing and very peaceful. And then I think to myself...I didn't come 2500 miles, and trudge all the way down here to be a coward.

So you know what? I said what the hell and I handed my girl my camera and starting about 5 feet away I laid down and crawled to edge. And you know what...it was so beautiful and peaceful, and awe-inspiring. And then I performed my biggest feat of all...she handed me my camera and I put the strap around my neck, and I leaned into the landscape...and I'm still here.

Because you can't get this view...unless you are within an inch of your life, or the edge. And the only thing I was wishing for at this point was a wider lens. But I was just in a canyon prior to this where they were throwing sand and I wasn't about to change my lens without a blower. And by the way, it's 1000 feet straight down to the bottom, to that gorgeous Colorado River. See that white fleck near the edge of the bank on the right side, that's a large boat.

It's almost mind blowing to know that after the Colorado Plateau uplifted 5 million years ago that the river after being trapped, cut through this rock, and not only that but it created a 270 degree bend in the canyon.

And somewhere on the river below the dam, there is a panel of petroglyph left by Ancestral Puebloans over 800 years ago. Putting that on the checklist for next time.

On our way back up, and as an excuse to catch my breath, I tried to take in as many details as I could.

I was fascinated by these rock sculptures that were very meditative. I couldn't help but wonder who had put them there.

And how they don't blow over in the strong winds, or get knocked over by wildlife.

And then we finally made it back up to the top, and I sat under this gazebo to rest. 

I have to admit, going back up sorta felt like a stress test!

It had also been a long, busy week and we were all tired.

(KK 1217 music)

And as I was sitting there, and getting one last view of where I had just been, it hit me all of a sudden. And I know this is chronologically out of vacation order, but the whole trip even though it was amazing and fun, was a little hurried for me...the wanderer. I just didn't feel like I had the time to explore and discover, and even though I personally would have loved to stay here a little longer, this is where I finally found that moment of peace and tranquility. 

The place where I reached out and conquered a real fear, and it felt powerful. But just to be clear, I'm still afraid of heights.

"Take risks. Ask big questions.

Don't be afraid to make mistakes;

if you don't make mistakes, you're

not reaching far enough." - David Packard

Have a great day!

Love, Kim

Texture Tuesday, Song-ography, Roses of Inspiration, Sweet shot Tuesday, Our World Tuesday

What's the word?

Last year what I wanted, was to be more intentional in my photography, and in my writing more and in letting my passions drive more of my actions. More intentional about my time, and in trying new things, and just with life in general. I wanted to be more intentional  about the things that are important to me, and yet I wanted to keep it as simple as possible.

And how did that work out?

Well, if I were a glass half empty kinda gal, and broke all those things down, I would have to say  . . . maybe not so great.

But I'm not, so I won't go there.

What I can tell you is that in life in general, intention worked out pretty good. I can say that I learned some new things, like journal making, and I shared my passion of taking football pictures from the sidelines on a Facebook page for the players and parents. And with roughly 60 hours logged in of shooting said football this past fall I might have even improved just a bit. I kept true to the things that were most important to me, which included my part in the conservation of the monarch butterfly by becoming an official Monarch Waystation and the release of another 600 butterflies raised in my dining room . But the biggest intention of all was the time I took away from here to rest my soul. And it was hard because it's not what I had intended to do with my time, and it sure didn't help with my intention of writing more.

But sometimes you just have to give yourself permission to rest even when the trade offs are high. Because, sometimes when you chose not to, the trade offs can be even higher. And when you have a child with a chronic illness you can't afford to not be intentional with yourself . . . it's the only way you can ride the changing tide.

{KK waterfront magic}

"Speak louder than the words before you

And give them meaning no one else has found

The role we play is so important

We are the voices of the underground"

by A Great Big World, (This Is The New Year)

During much of this quiet time, though, it's been harder to quiet the noise speaking in my head and heart. The one that says... I feel like there is something else I should be doing, something deeper below the surface of safe. I've felt this way for awhile and I don't mean instead of being here.

The thing is I'm not really sure what it is and if I've learned one thing about myself it's that I'm not afraid of not doing something right, just of not being prepared enough to start. Does that make any sense?

This years word, unlike past words, didn't come as freely. I knew what I wanted it to feel like, but couldn't quite grasp it. And then, while standing in the kitchen one day last week, it came to me like a lightning bolt. Poof, there it was, my word and one that for me feels interactive, one that holds possibilities.

[Reach] - to stretch or hold out, extend. To get to, or arrive at, or amount to. To establish                                     communication with.

to reach and be reached
to find solutions
to reach for answers and ask more questions
to find the courage to reach for my turn, to reach for yes
to simply reach for what's hidden . . .  then reveal it, and give it meaning


There is no guarantee that by the act of reaching that anyone will reach back, or that there is even something on the other side. No guarantee that there is an answer to a question or a solution to a problem, and I'm going to reach anyway.

I want to take the chance, to leap without fear, into the unknown, over mud puddles while reaching for the other side.

I want to reach for the stars and touch everything in between.

"When you reach for the stars, you are reaching for the

farthest thing out there. When you reach deep into yourself,

it is the same thing, but in the opposite direction. If you

reach in both directions, you will have spanned the universe."

- Vera Nazarian

P.S.- I would like to invite you to join me over at Focusing on Life today (new month, new theme) where I'm sharing thoughts on time, A Tall Ship and new beginnings.

Love, Kim


Sharing with Texture Tuesday, Song-ography