If you listen carefully to the warm dry winds the rustle through the canyon on whispered breath perhaps you can hear the gentle hum of a lone cowboy riding the trail, maybe the ancient chants of Native warriors tracking prey across the baron red earth. For who could not think of Cowboys and Indians in such a dramatic western landscape as is spread before us to admire.
The weathered cliffs sculptured by time and the elements the sweep through this land rise eerily around like giant sacred sentinels watching over land. Drifting feathery clouds slowly pass across the wide blue sky in and endless procession of dazzling blue and vivid white. Alone we stand and watch the beauty of this majestic place, come dream it says, we have time.