What happens when humans have the chance to hear anything they say reflected back as singsong in a canyon full of flowing sandstone?

All I can think is that maybe she saw them a little more clearly too as she pulled out of the campground. That her ride home was a little easier because of what they gave her.

Seeing clearly is a gift that we can give ourselves. Letting other people see clearly, guiding others to see something a little clearer - that's the work of heroes.

So, I sit still in a place designed to be moved through. Somehow it feels like breaking the rules. Purgatory with a traffic pattern.

No time since then has one campground loop yielded as much head shaking, chuckling, or drama. I still wonder who won the music wars and whether the trash ever got put in the **** blue bin.