Canyon de Chelly

BIRTHRIGHT

As if on cue the sky clears overhead. A supernatural brightness spreads in the superlative canyon.

One simply cannot take it all: this pillar stands in such a way as to give the surrounding cliffs the consistency of translucent papier-mache. Half golden moonlight, half shaded dark — balanced on the tip of the equinoctial night.

And balanced it needs to be, for it's not just a pillar anymore. Nor an antenna tuned to the urgency of world events, nor even the finger of God. Rather: the eye of the storm, the still pool before and after the volcano. A rocket about to launch man and the landmass on which he lives into an evolutionary future of unknown magnitude.

Here i lay tonight, by birthright. I have arrived. Dice have been cast.

I take the feeling in, take the silence in...