It was near the coming of sunset when Carley first looked down into the
Grand Canyon. She had forgotten Glenn's tribute to this place. In her
rapturous excitement of preparation and travel the Canyon had been
merely a name. But now she saw it and she was stunned.
What a stupendous chasm, gorgeous in sunset color on the heights,
purpling into mystic shadows in the depths! There was a wonderful
brightness of all the millions of red and yellow and gray surfaces still
exposed to the sun. Carley did not feel a thrill, because feeling seemed
inhibited. She looked and looked, yet was reluctant to keep on looking.
She possessed no image in mind with which to compare this grand and
mystic spectacle. A transformation of color and shade appeared to be
going on swiftly, as if gods were changing the scenes of a Titanic
stage. As she gazed the dark fringed line of the north rim turned to
burnished gold, and she watched that with fascinated eyes. It turned
rose, it lost its fire, it faded to quiet cold gray. The sun had set.
Then the wind blew cool through the pinyons on the rim. There was a
sweet tang of cedar and sage on the air and that indefinable fragrance
peculiar to the canyon country of Arizona. How it brought back to Carley
remembrance of Oak Creek! In the west, across the purple notches of the
abyss, a dull gold flare showed where the sun had gone down.
In the morning at eight o'clock there were great irregular black shadows
under the domes and peaks and escarpments. Bright Angel Canyon was all
dark, showing dimly its ragged lines. At noon there were no shadows and
all the colossal gorge lay glaring under the sun. In the evening Carley
watched the Canyon as again the sun was setting.
Deep dark-blue shadows, like purple sails of immense ships, in wonderful
contrast with the bright sunlit slopes, grew and rose toward the east,
down the canyons and up the walls that faced the west. For a long
while there was no red color, and the first indication of it was a dull
bronze. Carley looked down into the void, at the sailing birds, at the
precipitous slopes, and the dwarf spruces and the weathered old yellow
cliffs. When she looked up again the shadows out there were no longer
dark. They were clear. The slopes and depths and ribs of rock could be
seen through them. Then the tips of the highest peaks and domes turned
bright red. Far to the east she discerned a strange shadow, slowly
turning purple. One instant it grew vivid, then began to fade. Soon
after that all the colors darkened and slowly the pale gray stole over
all.