My wife had always wanted to see the canyon with snow on the ground, and her aspiration was met in February 2001. My American cousin had referred to the canyon as "an awesome hole in the ground," and as a master of the understatement, he is absolutely right.
We approached the national park with minutes to spare before sunset. We parked the car and ran towards the edge of the canyon to watch the sun disappearing over the horizon, changing the colours of the canyon from bright oranges to lilac and purple hues. Indeed in minutes the whole appearance of the canyon was transformed, with a marvellous gradation of colour across the rock formation and the sky. It was almost as if the sky was reflecting the canyon’s form.
Now the bad news: If we wanted to see sunrise, we would need to be on our way by 4:30am. Ouch! We were determined to go for it, although I’m not sure that my cousin was quite as committed to this venture as we were, and we were up and ready in the cold darkness of Bright Angel’s car park. Yaki Point was the recommended venue, and we arrived in good time to join fellow nature-lovers. It was so cold that icicles were almost forming on the noses of the assembled group as we waited, cameras at the ready, to witness a new dawn. At the appointed minute (and I’m sure it was dead on the predicted time), the sky began to change in appearance. The sun was rising from our right, behind a large outcrop, and a stunning purple spread across the lower horizon; slowly, a glint of brightness showed through from the right. I shifted my feet in the crisp snow and tried to convince myself that coldness was only a state of mind (not so since I’m virtually shaking with the extreme coldness), and then the sky is illuminated with a semicircle of bright yellow, with the snow on the distant outcrops reflecting back its whiteness to us. This is an experience that should not be missed. My wife’s dream of a white canyon was now a reality, and I’m not sure that I’d want to see it any other way.
We return to the car with our teeth chattering, and there, as we are leaving Yaki Point, behind some bushes was a baby deer. She stood perfectly still, as if frozen to the spot, and posed beautifully for me as I rushed for my camera. What a great start for our morning!
After a warming drink, we investigate the area around Bright Angel. We feel as if we are dancing with danger as we stroll along the cliff top – there are no barriers here, just a sheer drop to the granite gorge below. And there built into the canyon side is Lookout Studio, designed by Mary Colter back in 1914. Again she managed to blend a manmade feature into nature’s creation.