![]() And for reasons unknown to me, she collapses this machine, and it falls down into the Colorado River its crew now lost.When I reach the car, it is only eight in the morning. As she rides, she unsheaths a club, and when she nears the machine, she whacks a single lick at its legs. I imagine that on the ridge to my left, the silhouette of a horse-rider appears, and she rides down toward the ark. ![]() But some women ride arks and they are known south of the rim as gauchettes. Most women are confined to these long, cylindrical buildings to the south, where they spend their days perfecting various rabbit recipes. Up first, then a steep dive, and then up again, and then his wings go stiff and he glides a mile, maybe two, in a single, effortless movement.Īrks are as much a means of rabbit collection as an arguably unfounded fear of the subsequent rise of cougars, whose numbers rose on account of the rabbits. When the clouds move away, he springs into the air. He sits there for a moment while the Colorado River is shrouded in cloud. In the first signs of light, a raven perches on a nearby rock, which hangs over the cliff wall. I walk along the canyon-top the more detail I add to my science fiction, the more I enjoy the cold morning. The machines are called arks, I tell myself, and in a dystopian future, men cling to their machines, harvesting their last resource, a bounty of bunnies. And climate change favored a certain vegetation, and with an ecosystem out of whack, this brushy vegetation feeds too many rabbits, and they are everywhere. I awake them, sure, but shouldn't they run away?Īnd that's why, these machines with their mechanical legs - they are bunny harvesters. The way they seem oblivious to my presence is offsetting. North, to here.Īlong a ledge, I can see dozens of desert cottontails. Winter isolates this region even more the North Rim now lies covered in eight feet of snow. But only 3,500 people live here isolated from the rest of the states by the Grand Canyon. This region – the Arizona strip, or, Arizona north of the Colorado River, is an immense geography. Legs, not wheels, because the isolated and rugged nature of these slickrock, scrub and canyon landscapes.Īrizona's Kaibab Plateau remains an isolated place. More like an oversized vehicle, which fits a small crew. I imagine the machine much smaller than Howl's Moving Castle. Although clouds make it disappear, I see it walking in the dim light. And I wonder if it happens to you too? That monolith rock above that canyon wall, I imagine it held up by four mechanical legs. It is something that happens to me in these sorts of situations. I can expend no habits to relieve the quiet.Įxcept one. But today on the Utah-Arizona border, it is mid-January and the cold makes the desert north of the Grand Canyon barren. My traveler's habits – trying to identify animals or learning to find an edible plant – keeps solitude at bay, and over the years I have added habits to my repertoire. Solitude pulls at me, telling me to go home. I do not find comfort on a cold plateau in the dark, and I thrive in the pleasure of company. Immediately, it reminds me of Hayao Miyazaki's rendition of a metallic, mechanical castle in Howl's Moving Castle. Now, a monolith rock emerges from a landscape of slickrock from shifting clouds. Low clouds move with surreal speed along the cliffs above the Colorado River they swirl, shapeshift, and from time to time, they seem to disappear altogether.ĭay will come soon, but until then, the movement of the clouds brings unexpected shapes.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |