By Scott Shephard

I took several photos during the two days Deb and I spent in Zion National Park last month but I really wasn’t satisfied with any of them. The color and the textures of the canyon walls and of the many fascinating geological features were fairly easy to capture. But what is very difficult to reveal is the scale of this amazing place. But this photo, showing a single hiker dressed in waterproof shoes and coveralls in readiness for the famous Narrows that lie ahead, might help.

I remember reading years ago that medieval cathedrals such as the Notre Dame de Paris would have made the person of that era feel both embraced but very small. The canyon in Zion National Park seems very much like a cathedral to me: a thing of beauty, a place of awe and of reflection. And even, perhaps, a place of worship.

Does Zion make this solitary walker feel small and insignificant? I can’t say, of course - we passed in silence on this quiet morning. But I am thinking that the walking man is somewhat like the river that flows through the park. So are we.

Like the river, we may seem insignificant in the face of geologic place and time. But if we persist and do things right, we leave something behind that might last at least a little longer than we do and that others after us can appreciate.

That’s not too much to hope for, is it?