It was a good hour before it occurred to her that she was much farther north than she’d meant to go. She’d gotten off the main highway and the road she’d taken, although it had started out paved, had turned into little more than a dirt path about a half hour back. But there were some intriguing sandstone cliffs clustered ahead that jutted upward, brooding and massive, from the severe landscape. And if she read her map correctly, she had permission to explore the area.

She pulled over to the side of the road. Taking her Canon SLR out of its case, she selected a zoom lens and screwed it on. She made sure the scenic wide-angle lens was tucked in the case, then slipped the strap over her head, letting it dangle over her shoulder. Hanging the camera strap around her neck, she got out. There were no fences delineating the land from the road. She’d read that many property owners kept sheep, but this spot didn’t look appropriate for grazing. It was rocky, with only sparse vegetation.

Watching her footing, she scrambled down the steep incline to get closer. The sheer magnificence of the massive formation was breathtaking. She shot the area from all angles, using the zoom in her approach and quickly growing engrossed in her work. The isolation of the area made it easy to imagine being the first person to stand here thousands of years ago, marveling over the same sight.

As she got closer to the butte she paused long enough to switch lenses before continuing her work. It wasn’t until she looked back and saw how small her vehicle appeared in the distance that she realized how far she had come.