Our First Week in Kanab

A curious thing happens whenever we arrive in Kanab, and this year is no different. After weeks of flitting across America, like three hummingbirds at a dizzying pace, we reach this strangely calming corner of desert with its red clay, layered cliffs, and endless skies, and we pause to sigh, to breathe, to take it all in. A desire to become invisible, be less public, more soul-centered takes over, and this solitary begins to burrow in the stillness.

The other day, a new friend said, “Sedona and Santa Fe are known as healing places. Kanab’s like that, too. The moment I came here, I felt it. It’s why I stayed.”

I believe she is right, for I feel it as well. It’s the reason this trip, for the second year in a row, is centered on a month in Kanab.