The overpowering smell of sage brush filled his nostrils, causing his exhale to cough and sputter in white, vapory wisps.  A thin layer of clouds obscured the sky, constantly misting the lavender filled meadows surrounding him.  On his right hand side the meadow ended abruptly in a steep cliff that leaps down to the roar of the Sespe River below as it leaps across the rocky bed.  Breathing deeply of the sage filled air, he looked above the meadows and over a gently sloping razor backed ridge.  There a plume of clouds spiraled skyward from within the folds of the canyon, rising past leaf filled sycamores to join the blanketed sky above.  There, he knew, his destination waited, a solitary spring bubbling form the slate rock face of the canyon wall.  There the smell of sage would be replaced by the tell tale smell of sulfur as the steaming water pooled and eddied, just waiting to receive his tired bones into its warm embrace.  

In the winter when the leaves are down, the land is laid bare and you can see out of the dead-end canyons for miles.  This picture was taken of me on my then-project “All things Considered.”  I didn’t get it that day, but I came back later and sent!  There are miles and miles of cliffs to climb, more than you could ever get sick of, so that’s why I get my fresh air fix in the Red River Gorge, Kentucky!