Did I mention the Grand Canyon was cold that day?

Well, it was.

And hour after hour we were jumping in the car… not nearly long enough to warm up…. and then jumping out of the car to explore the next site.

When we hit Hopi Point?

I sat in the car for a while and conversed with an elk while I got some circulation back in my fingers.

Not the greatest conversationalists, elk.

But to be fair, this one had his (her?) mouth full, so I might have missed key parts of the witty repartee..

After a while I ventured out…

And was struck speechless by the sheer grandeur.

Alright, I wasn’t speechless.

But there was no one around and the elk wasn’t listening… so cut me some slack.

This section of the canyon was majestic.

If you’re into wide open, vast chasms of rock that could swallow you whole.

It wasn’t pretty, per se….

But raw, stark beauty is striking in its own right.

Powell Point Memorial.

At the end of Powell Point.

Named for a guy named Powell.

Who says my posts aren’t educational?

Well…okay.

But they do have pretty pictures.

Walking out to the end of Powell Point was a frigid experience….

The wind was frigid, snapping my hair into my face like a whip. It felt like it was 4 below.

And I could no longer feel my nose.

Whew.

Red… but still there.

I scurried around, taking pictures.

Thinking, yeah… if it was 50 degrees warmer I’d sit a spell.

But the husband was happily climbing around.

Exploring every last square inch.

And that’s the thing about the Grand Canyon….

There are lots of inches to discover.

Including this fuzzy elk butt that was pointing at the car window when I got in.

Damn.

I love nature.