A capital reef,

or, At Capitol Reef. The rock formations massive; the sky ever larger.

Trailing up to the top of Chimney Rock in the midday sun, P cautioned me never to be the second person in line when passing a rattlesnake. Startled by footsteps, the snake composes itself in time to strike after the first person has passed.

Armed with this knowledge, I kept an eye peeled for snakes, but all we saw were sandy little lizards and great swooping birds among the stubborn shrubs, rubbery and tough to the touch, in line with the austerity of the desert.

The first of many climbs

began at the Rocky Mountains National Park in Colorado. Curving in round the tallest mountains, their austere statures softened by forest green, we spent the night nearly 9000 feet above ground. The next morning found us scaling a trail that led past this and two other ponds before losing itself to the everpresent snow. At one point I took advice from a one-armed woman on how to inch down a slope narrow and icy without slipping. For consolation I considered that no skeletons were visible, at least, from any vantage point, only the giants and the shadows they cast.