Zions National Park

It has been over 55 years since visiting Zions National Park. On a whim, Oma and I lightly packed the car and headed to Zion's Lodge for an overnight exploration of the Colorado Plateau's Virgin River canyon. Whether the sandstone canyon walls are bathed in full sun or draped with shadowed frames, one feels very insignificant and engulfed with majestic backdrops.

The weather provided a small window of Spring warmth. While walking the paths and trails, Oma and I began to feel that English was the minority language spoken there. No matter the country of origin or the ethnic foundation of its visitors, Zions had a palpuble impact on all who meandered the trails.

The area is arid and receives little mosture. We were amazed that nature has a way of clinging to the sandstone formations and somehow provide enough nutrients to support pine, flowers, moss and vines. The yellow blossoms on the left were less than 1/8th inch in diameter. In one area small amounts of water seeped and fell from the canyon walls, forming a small creek that eventually emptied into the North Fork of the Virgin River. It is claimed that the water had been held in the rock formations for over 2,000 years

Wildlife included Western Big Horn Sheep, Mule deer, large grey squirels, wild turkeys that roamed the Lodge's frount grounds, and many local birds.

While the photo of Oma holding the railing seems unremarkable it does hold a story line. Prior to leaving the Park, Oma learned of a canyon hike that would lead to the Overlook Trail that features a spectacular view down Pine Creek Canyon. I cannot confirm the description of the view because I only made it 3/4 the way. It was not difficult to assend but I stopped because there was few areas where a handrail was provided. It made little sense to me that the trail slopped toward the steep canyon wall that fell to more than several hundred feet. In addition, the rock was covered with fine sand from deteriating sandstone wall faces. And the final decision to return down the canyon was made when Oma's ankle could not take any more trauma. In order to help she held on to my back pack. While trying to control my fear of heights she pulled on the pack (to maintain her balance but pull me off balance), laughed throughout the decent, and generally thought the whole thing was someting to scoff at. I am very thankful that that portion of the trip ended safely.