Almost a month ago,* Tom put Red Rock Rondo: Zion Canyon Song Cycle on the stereo. Our friend Laura gave us the CD–signed by the musicians–close to twenty years ago. I was making cookies in the kitchen when I heard the opening music of “Marvelous Flood.” I had to come out of the kitchen to listen and to cry a bit for the beauty of the music, for old friends, for old times, and for the exquisite beauty of Southern Utah and the Colorado Plateau.

Like in 2017, I have been feeling angry and sad about the the president’s attempt to again vastly shrink Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monuments. What I am not feeling this time around is surprised at these harmful, disrespectful, and–likely illegal–moves. I do have hope that lawsuits against this president will snarl and slow the depredations and that these land grabs will stop once and for all.

I read the news too much and I brood over the scores of photos I have taken of the Colorado Plateau. I have learned that my words and my pictures do not stop villainy. Yet, here I am on this page again–dreaming of democracy, peace, harmony, and rainbow deserts under blue skies.

Bears Ears National Monument 

In 2014 Tom and I drove to Natural Bridges National Monument on Utah State Road 95. We drove very near Bears Ears. I might even have a photo of at least one of the iconic ears. I am not sure, but the land all around us was like heaven (if you think heaven has lots of rocks and sand).

I had a Bears Ears tee shirt until it fell apart and I had a ball cap, but I lost it on the Metro.

Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument

During the 2017 assault on the Grand Staircase public lands, I wrote five articles about the area.  Below are links to these articles:

• Staircase to Heaven, Part I
• Staircase to Heaven, Part 2
• Staircase to Heaven, Part 3
• Staircase to Heaven, Part 4
• Staircase to Heaven, Part 5

I have learned that my words and my pictures do not stop villainy, but I won’t be silent.

 

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*Almost a month ago Tom read a draft of this article. I always ask him to do so because I learned many years ago that we all need editing. Typically, I might have an overly elliptical statement, or I might need to stop writing sooner rather than later, or I might use the occasional wrong word. This time, Tom said he thought that people want to hear what I have to say now, not what I wrote about circa 2017. I have been thinking about this idea for the last month. Tom has a point: who wants to read my same old stuff?

It’s complicated for me, though. I love Kurt Vonnegut. Vonnegut was a writer-in-residence when I was a sophomore at the University of Michigan and I have never forgotten listening to him. I love Slaughter-House Five. That is where I learned about Tralfamadorian time. You probably need to read or reread Slaughterhouse-Five and maybe some of Vonnegut’s other novels to really understand this idea. Briefly, my take is that time is not linear and that the past, present, and future are not as simple as they appear. I think I may live my life in some sort of Tralfamadorian time. Last week, I walked in Washington, D.C. and I saw a banner of a malignant narcissist hanging from a U.S. Department of Justice building on Pennsylvania Avenue. I felt angry, sad, and fearful. Now, (maybe in need of comfort) I am walking in my imagination in the grand downtown Detroit of my early childhood. I am the little girl holding my mom’s and dad’s hands–I was always the baby of the family. I am the baby even now at 76 years old. It’s like that for me now, thinking about Southern Utah and Northern Arizona. Now, I am stiff when I get up from my chair and I have to take a minute to straighten up. However, part of me is still that young woman bounding over the rocks and jumping into the Colorado River. I hear and see my Navajo and Hopi students now, as they were then back in 1972. I can see a future where the water is gone, the ponderosas fail, and the indigenous history is no longer celebrated and protected. This might be where Vonnegut would say, “So it goes.”

Some of you did read what I wrote back in 2017. However, the beauty and love and pain and sadness remain new in my mind where time is not linear.

Some things are new with me, though. People die, others get sick or sicker, and some get stronger and do better. Many keep trying. Some are getting married and some are trying out for new teams. For all that these are challenging times, it is a beautiful summer here and I am seeing more butterflies than in the last several years.

Dolly Parton died a few days ago. My friend Daphne sent me  Dolly’s, “Light of a Clear Blue Morning.” I see the clear blue mornings in red rock country, from my balcony now here outside the capital city, and somewhere down the road in a place and time I don’t know yet.