If you believe the old saying, then this picture should say a lot. That’s me hanging over the side, watching as we dig deeper into the mud. I took this trip to Canyon de Chelle last April. It was one of those momentous journeys that is life changing.
Eight hours speeding through creeks, dodging around outcroppings, and stopping to absorb the beauty of this canyon, forged friendships, and a lasting respect for Mother Earth. Pictographs, hieroglyphs, and banded walls twisted by the wind all so close to the touch. Along with the red dust we breathed in the history of the Native Americans who lived in harmony with the land.
Wild horses, coyotes, and cattle all roamed freely, tended by nimble youths as in days gone by. By the end of the day we had bruises, tired bottoms,and cameras full of images to take home with our memories. I took home more than that. I took home a story–a story that I will weave using the Native culture and myths. My novel Tiponi: Child of Hope will be based on this material. Currently, I’m in the last few chapters and can’t wait until, Tiponi finishes her journey. Have you every been on a journey such as this?