Today, we finish our provisioning and packing. Tomorrow, we'll drive six hours to the South Rim. Monday, we'll hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and, finally, sleep on the Canyon floor amid the daunting wilderness.
Geologically, it's the bottom of the earth. I so look forward to returning there.
As Bart Giamatti said, welcoming the Class of 1982 to Yale when he was arriving to become president and we were arriving as freshmen: "The worm of apprehension bit deep in the bud of anticipation."
I hope to feel panic.
Not the psychological panic we feel when overwhelmed with work or crammed into airplanes. But the panic of the original meaning of the word:
"…from Gk. panikon, lit. "pertaining to Pan," in sense of "panic, fright" short for panikon deima, from neut. of Panikos "of Pan," the god of woods and fields who was the source of mysterious sounds that caused contagious, groundless fear in herds and crowds, or in people in lonely spots. [from etymonline.com]
It's the anxious feeling of walking through the woods and sensing the overwhelming presence of nature in the chirping and hooting overhead, and the crunching underfoot.
I'll be thinking of you.
Our time together is precious to me. Thank you for sharing these moments.
At the bottom of the earth, amid Pan's mysterious sounds, I will express a quiet wish for your well being and joy.