I pass the small tribal town at the base of Jemez mountains, and stop at the gate to greet the Native American that allows one to enter the National Monument.
“You are lucky to have arrived so early, as today is our busiest day of the year”.
It’s exactly 8 am, the day after Thanksgiving, as I step foot onto the trail leading to Kasha-Katuwe, or the White Cliffs, as it would be interpreted by the Pueblo Indians for the White people.
The cliff walls narrow as you ascend, the claustrophobic nature as comforting to me as a soft blanket gently draped around your shoulders.
The notes of an ancient flute reverberate off Peralta Canyon, the powerful forces of vulcanism and erosion in the towering tent rocks pierce your skin in the early morning.
I make my way through the magical granite confines until I reach the summit, where the sun breaks over the horizon for one all powerful view…
