The Grand Canyon at Sunrise

I had seen a thousand photos of the Grand Canyon before I went, and I thought I knew what to expect. I didn't.

We got to Mather Point at 5:30 a.m., in the dark, with a few dozen other people shivering in jackets and holding coffee. As the sun came up, the canyon slowly revealed itself, layer by layer, red and orange and purple and gold. It was so big that my eyes couldn't figure it out at first.

Nobody spoke. Not one person. A man next to me took off his hat. A little girl whispered, "It's like a painting that's alive."

I've traveled a fair amount. I've never felt so small and so grateful to be small. I stood there until the crowd thinned out and my coffee went cold, and then I stood there some more.