These landscapes are indescribable–the colors unlike those in other regions, the desert hues are unique to the rocky arid areas. The landscape changes rapidly, the faults, folds, rock layers and even vegetation fade and make way for new ones.

The highlight of yesterday was floating down the Green River past Split Mountain, and exiting right at the shore of our campsite. The river is naturally quick-flowing, and one simply has to wade out into the middle, catch the current and paddle a bit. You find yourself floating downstream at a comfortable pace, past the boat ramp where rafters are preparing, past majestic cliffs and soaring swallows, with classmates floating around you, equally as thrilled. You know that one really annoying group? That’s us, says one of them as we laugh, shriek, and float onwards.

I was up early, in those last moments before the sun peeks over the cliffs and illuminates the campground with that buttery color. I was up and running, my body carrying me from the tent and along the dusty wash. Cottontails scatter in all directions despite my subtle approach–can’t fool them. I run the dips and hills of this little path as the sun shares more and more light with this corner of the earth. Breaths ragged from the elevation, I pause on a ledge overlooking the river. Relatively smooth water, only disturbed by rocks and the mother and child swimming below. The two beavers are extremely small from up here, but their path is consistent, leaving a wide trail as they paddle along.

-Rosa Brandt