Bryce Canyon and Grandpa Nat

Journal Entry #33

June 14, 2022

I’ve had powerful, vivid memories of Bryce Canyon long before I have ever visited this place.

In my grandparents’ apartment in Florida, hanging over the fold-out couch in the TV room den where we spent so many winter vacations, were three modestly framed 11x14 photographs of the iconic hoodoos of Inspiration Point in Bryce Canyon National Park.

My Grandpa Nat had taken them on one of their post retirement trips sometime in the mid to late 1970’s, I think. I remember being absolutely enchanted with those photos.

My grandfather was a voracious reader and a constant learner. It made him an especially engaged traveler who relished all of the details and discoveries of their trips.

I remember sitting on the couch with Grandpa Nat, in the crook of his arm, flipping through the photo albums of their many travels over the years, while listening to the stories of what they did and saw. He would animatedly describe to me the geology, the plant and animal life and the art, architecture and cultural history of the places he visited. I was enthralled.

Before Tom and I left on our year-long journey, I was downsizing our belongings by going through old boxes stashed in our attic.

I came across my childhood doll collection; my grandparents always brought me a doll back from the countries they visited. Often they were dressed in traditional clothing; a man wearing a vraka and foustanella from Greece, an elderly couple in hand knitted wool from the Isle of Skye, and a Beefeater from England, for example.

Among the several dozens in the collection was a beautiful kachina doll and a hand sewn, soft fabric doll wearing a burgundy velvet dress and a turquoise beaded necklace. I immediately remembered that these dolls were from my grandparents’ epic trip out to the southwestern US — the trip that included their visit to Bryce Canyon.

I remember my grandmother joking that Grandpa Nat must have gone through at least 20 rolls of film on that trip! I also recall that when we visited Florida after their journey he got out his slide projector and slide wheels to share his many beautiful photos. He told us of the Native American legends of the hoodoos; how in Paiute lore the enigmatic red rock hoodoos of Bryce Canyon were "Evil Legend People" who were turned to stone by the all-powerful Coyote spirit.

As I sorted through the dolls in that box, memories came flooding back of the hours I spent listening to my grandfather, displaying my doll collection and imagining the trips to far-away places I would someday take. (Needless to say I held on to this important box of keepsakes!)

Grandpa Nat’s photos of Bryce Canyon remained on the walls of my grandparents’ apartment long after he died; many decades of sun and time fading their bright reds and golds to softer, paler tones of ecru and cream. These pictures were always a comfort to me; a reminder of his love of travel, his quest to learn new things and his thrill of discovery.

I think, more than anyone, my Grandpa Nat inspired in me an inquisitive energy and desire to explore the world. And so, here I am in Bryce Canyon for the very first time in my life. While it is exhilarating, it also seems somehow familiar. I smile thinking of Grandpa Nat’s Bryce Canyon photos and the kind of traveler that I have become. I am my grandfather’s granddaughter. I miss him. I can feel his spirit here with me in this beautiful place.