James Evangelista Portfolios
The silence of the place is unnerving. That echo you hear is the sound of blood pumping through your own temples. But if you are patient, you become gradually aware of the way juniper trees speak to the rock, how the wind whispers to the canyon walls and sunlight dances on yucca plants and sage.
We were cognizant to all of the natural wonders and beauty of the ruins. I had never been so impressed by an act of nature. In this desert of mystery and mysticism, it felt as if an ancient Anasazi God had been watching over us. Above, ravens arced across the sky whispering amongst themselves the secrets of millenniums long since passed… "Like a Blessing" I thought, "Like a gift".
