Church on Sunday morning at the Grand Canyon was memorable. We attended the service outside on the rim of the canyon. The first hymn was “For the Beauty of the Earth” which seems appropriate in that space.
Dad took a picture of the congregation, and he and Mother joked that if he took a few more steps back he’d have gotten a picture of the canyon wall on the way down.
We visited various sites to get different views of the canyon.
Dale had the memory that we stopped to look at the mules in the corral and Dad pointed out there was one horse. Dad wondered if they used one sure-footed horse on the trail. Later, we passed a line of people mounted on mules, on the road headed to the canyon. Then we passed the corral again, empty — almost. The horse was alone in the corral.
Later that Sunday, we drove to Albuquerque, stopping briefly as we drove through the Petrified Forest.
Somewhere on that day’s journey, we encountered tumbleweeds. Dale and I both have a memory of stopping to look closely at one. We even each took a twig and taped it into our trip diaries.
Edited to add the front and back of a postcard of the Grand Canyon from June 1971.