Leaving Flagstaff, I drove through Navajo land. Pines gave way to red earth, orange, white, and black sandstone. The sun was yellow and bright, light heating everything. Towers of orange, tiny green and brown will go on forever. Following the guide, we dropped into a mouth of sandstone, long ago swirling in the wind, now frozen in place. Dancing spotlight, dust specks floating against the dusty, orange brown skin of the walls, they enclose and open like they are still moving.
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