Short Stories. Photos and pictures. Poems even.

ear of the wind 1/2

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9. Alone in the Valley.

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Still in the Valley, on unmarked roads where one is allowed only with native guide, we continued to the next stop. A herd of Mustangs appeared. We stopped to admire them. The rock walls displayed multitude of colors. Clint, the Guide drove a little ahead of us, and we heard him holler inside the rock. It echoed far! This is a place were a Navajo would go to call for help, or send a message and his voice could be heard miles and miles. The were drawings on the soft walls. Clint explained the meaning of them to us. Suddenly we were underneath a hole up in the rock. He urged me to throw myself on the red dusty sand to take a picture of it so that one of the yellow flowers growing on the ground would show in the hole. Easier said than done!

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20140606_080608 photo taking

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I took some more pictures coached by Clint ; OK, put your heel against this rock, and the other knee here…sorry, but my body does not bend like that…go ahead, you can do it…oops…I fell on my nose…again…I’ll post that photo next 🙂 This place in Monument Valley was called The Ear of the Wind.

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