GRAND CANYON in Winter
February 2021

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Excited by reports of a winter storm, 
Joe and I made a run up to the Grand Canyon this past weekend.     As always, this magical place did not disappoint.  The snow came down, photos were taken, and fingers were frozen. We couldn't be happier.   The first time I stood at the edge of this giant chasm I wasn't more than 6 or 7.  I remember thinking it couldn’t be real.  In my child’s mind, I was seeing an enormous mural, gorgeous, but unfathomable.   Not ‘til later, when my dad took my hand and walked me down the Bright Angel trail for several hundred yards did the immensity become real.   The vertical walls rising above us, the trail falling off hundreds of feet to our side, how tiny I felt, and how huge my surroundings.  Now, nearly 60 years later, the Canyon still takes my breath away.   I walked a short way down Bright Angel this time, with thoughts of my father, and the many times we had photographed together in this sublime place.  Such a debt of gratitude I owe him: not only in guiding me in the art of photography, but also for imparting a philosophy of reverence and respect for these priceless places of beauty.

A photo of Joe posing for me at Lookout Studio on the South Rim, circa 1982.  A couple years later it would be the December cover for Arizona Highways Magazine.  Now 39 years later, we are up to our same tricks...red coats and all!

"The wonders of the Grand Canyon cannot be adequately represented in symbols of speech, nor by speech itself.  The resources of the graphic art are taxed beyond their powers in attempting to portray its features. Language and illustration combined must fail."                                                                                                                                      John Wesley Powell
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