After spending the night on the high plateau we woke to freezing temperatures and the anticipation of walking in the footsteps of those who walked the high desert before us. We had seen in pictures their carefully constructed buildings hugging tight to the cliffs of Mesa Verde. But nothing prepared the soul for what it is about to experience.
Walking down the carefully constructed path I stopped occasionally to photograph the flora and fauna which coexists with the ghosts of the plateau.
Then suddenly as we breached the rise before us, the structures of the dwelling came into view.
The only sounds I heard other than the wind were the gasps and awes of fellow sojourners.
Walking through rooms and peering down into kivas I could imagine mothers feeding their children while grandmothers pounded corn into grain.
Ceilings were coated with creosote and replicated ladders connected the various levels of the cliff dwelling.
All to soon we were told it was time to depart.
Walking away I tried to lingered for one last look.
I wanted to believe I had burned this moment into both my memory and my soul. As I write this I believe I have accomplished both. The feelings which swell up within me as I relate this moment in time still take me to a place of serenity and grace.
Thank you for taking this moment in time to stop and share the beauty which is our world!