The entrance to Eldorado Canyon on the eastern edge of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains is awesome in every sense of the word. I slip into the gorge through a slit in the mountains just wide enough for the roaring creek and the state park entry booth. On either side of me are vast towers of red sandstone forced upwards, folded and cracked by unimaginable force into characteristic ‘flat iron’ formation. Above, a crisp line of delimitation, where rosy rock meets the paintbox blue, cloud-free sky. I had forgotten the magnitude of this scene.
Entering the park in fierce sunlight, I’m occasionally blasted by particles of sand, whipped up by gusts of wind forcing their way down the narrow canyon. Familiarity rushed to meet me with the warmth of fond memories, and I found myself smiling.