I dragged my feet the whole trip.
Reluctant to go to Arizona,
not excited about leaving home,
interested but not excited about the Grand Canyon.
Most of this quietly in my head...
but I did whine a little about the hike.
The sign described the hike as "difficult."
In NC, all hikes involve going up and going down
but a difficult hike usually involves climbing
over rocks and fording streams
and I wasn't feeling up to it.
It turns out the day at the canyon
ranks up there as one of the best days of my life
...and the hike, while we did make
a 1131 foot or 644 meter change in altitude
was a broad and easy trail
and we went only a mile and a half down
and took our time,
resting frequently on the heart pounding climb back up
and taking lots and lots of pictures all the way.
How many times have I been grateful
I didn't listen to my fear and doubt?
How many times have I absolutely cherished
a memory I almost declined to have?
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