Notes from Utah on Thursday

I had only planned a short hike in "The Valley of the Goblins" in this Utah State PArk, but they keep luring me in further and further. Walking in the midst of the earthen formations, overseen by the Henry Mountains, out of cell phone contact, and no one else in sight, it seems I am alone in the world. I am, for a short while anyway. I am not sure if there is the noise of small insects around me, or if it is just the silence. Silence, it seems, does have some sound. I wonder what you hear in a sound-proof room.

I started this particular journey, through the formations, about 9 a.m. and it is now beginning to heat up. I wish I had know they were open until 10 p.m. last night or at 6 a.m. this morning. I could have come at sunset or before sunrise for the phot-ops. I did have the foresight to bring a backpack, water, a camera, and of course, paper & pen.

My footsteps beat a hollow rythym on the firm, packed earth. Each rain washes away all the imprints left by our feet. I wonder if it washes away our thoughts, or do they linger in the netherland of another time. It is rather like hiking through a Rohrsharch (sp?)Test. I see mushrooms; turtles resting atop flat stones; one on top of a lion's head; a huge arm, carved and ready to place on an unseen statue; a huge nose, for the same statue perhaps; and various other animals. It is easy to see how how some might interpret the formations as giant phallic symbols and Freud would have a field day with that.

There are many beautiful places to stop here, but I must content myself with only a few and a promise to return and spend more time.