Zion National Park 
In retrospect, Zion was pretty; at the time, however, I was very impatient. Sure there were blue skies and tall peaks and red-orange rocks and trickling waterfalls, but so what? I suspect after the beauty to which we are accustomed it was somewhat of a letdown looking upon Zion's landscapes. Particularly since we now had Uncle Young-il with us, I had really hoped to show him firsthand the wonders we have seen along the way. 
And quite frankly, Zion did not measure up. 
Maybe we ought to have hiked more. 
Unlike most of the other parks we have visited, Zion operates a free shuttle that buses tourists and hikers around the park to trailheads and lookouts and the like. A few years ago the traffic jams were simply too outrageous, so they redid the entire system and now everybody parks and takes the shuttle—much more fuel-efficient, so props to Zion.
The Mormons were definitely here. They named much of the mountains and natural features, such as the Virgin River, the Sacrificial Altar, the Golden Throne, and the Three Patriarchs.
We hiked a bit but it was quite brisk out and night was falling fast, so we headed back to camp, where we stoked a merry fire. As cold as it was in the sun's absence, I deeply enjoyed poking the fire, standing in the pit, and craning my neck backwards to take in as many stars as possible. There were so many and I felt so small and the feeling was immediate relief. That is why I love looking at the stars; they remind me that my concerns are trivial and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
No comments:
Post a Comment