Who Knows?
/Buttes of Utah’s Zion National Park appeared as I turned the calendar to August. Such majesty in the rugged cliffs, vibrancy in the blue sky, and hushed quietness in the stream wending its way down the page. How old are those cliffs? In contrast, how new are the leafy trees dotting the slopes near the stream? How frequently is this particular spot observed by human eyes? Who knows exactly? And yet, there they are in all their grandeur and quiet beauty beckoning, “Come, rest a while here.”
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