Shoshone

The Snake River Canyon

A few weekends ago I went to visit my father in Southern Idaho. He lives right by the impressively massive Snake River Canyon. For the past 6 years, since my dad has lived there, I can remember being sucked into that place like a magnet. The beauty of the canyon captivates me. I'll never forget the first time I ever saw the canyon; I was in a bit of a panic. We were crossing the Hansen Bridge, I was driving on my learner's permit, ahead of me, coming in the opposite direction, were two large semis, and behind me was another. I have this bad habit of imagining, very vividly, worst case scenarios while driving. So that set in and I broke into a cold sweat. My dad just kept telling me to stay calm. "The bridge isn't that long, you'll be fine!" he kept saying. Ah, I credit my dad for my cool-head in situations.

So, this canyon instills a sense of freedom and beauty in me. It's like instantly being transported to the 1700s, before the dams were built, before the houses, before white man. There was nothing in Idaho's country except nature and the Native tribes. In my simple, nature-loving mind that's perfection. "To live in harmony with the spirit of the mountain called Monkey was enough."

My dad took me to see The Niagara of the West; Shoshone Falls. It was my first time there, and I was beyond myself with excitement. Waterfalls don't exist in Florida. It's horrible!

Meditative Rock

I spotted the massive, inviting rock in the above photo while my father and I were strolling around. And I thought to myself, "I could sit there all day long, reading a book or weaving a basket." Then the thought never left my head. If it weren't illegal, you'd better believe I would've crawled my ass up there to enjoy the sight and sun! My dad and I walked as far as we could, we watched little birds fly by the steep rock walls and land gracefully on little pinnacles. We talked about the sounds the thundering water makes. He showed me Juniper trees (new favorite) and we even participated in a little green cleaning by picking up plastic sacks and beer cans. By the way, never let me catch you litter. It will instantly ignite a very pissed off fire!

Not many people understand why I love Idaho so much. Thankfully, my dad does. All I have to say is, "I love rocks" and he's on the same page with me. Yeah. We're rock people. But in all seriousness, the shapes the rocks create, the vegetation that grows between the crevices, the hills, the animals, the trees... I love it all. Yes, even the wind. Idaho is painted in rich, nutty brown tones and vibrant greens; it's bathed in gold and sage. Nothing can replace Idaho's place in my heart.