The Sunset Picture

I woke up early so I could get the perfect photo. Quickly, I dressed in brown, scruffy pants, a baggy shirt and my hiking boots. I tied my coffee-brown hair into a tangled ponytail and slipped on my glasses. Once I had grabbed my bag, I was ready. 

I snuck out of my camping caravan and took a deep breath of the morning air. The sky was still dark but after a quick consultation with my watch, I knew it would rise soon. I took a stroll around the desert, spotting little lizards and harmless snakes retreating to their hideouts. The Grand Canyon was a dark blob against the night sky, but soon it would be silhouetted against a display of blue, pink and other pastel colours.

When I reached the edge of the canyon, I plopped down, my legs curled beneath me as I sat on a large, flat topped boulder. I was facing east so I could see when the sun would begin to rise. This would be the perfect picture. I had no doubt. 

After about an hour of waiting, I could see faint beams of gold escaping from the sun, outlining the fluffy clouds in pink. I snapped a quick shot of that, but then I realised if this picture was going to be perfect I had to get it from a different angle–and that angle happened to be across a large gap in the rocks. It was about 2 to 3 metres away. 

Shakily, I stood, knowing it would be completely worth it, trying to reassure myself. I saw a big rock that would give me a better place to jump from. I moved to the rock and half a scream escaped when it moved beneath me. The sound bounded off the walls of the empty canyon and echoed loudly. A few rocks and a bit of rubble fell down the canyon and I couldn’t hear them when they touched the bottom. I gulped.

I managed to get my balance on the rock, praying it wouldn't move and looked at the flat ground just in reach if I jumped my farthest. I sucked in a few deep breaths, squatted down and leaped. For seconds, I was suspended in the air, flying above The Grand Canyon. Then reality hit and gravity pulled me down. Just in time, my fingertips grazed the edge and I managed to get a hold, slowly pulling myself up. 

I slipped again and gritted my teeth. I would get this picture if it killed me. Which, in this instance, it might. I yanked myself up onto the edge and realised I’d been holding my breath. “I’m okay,” I told myself, really trying to believe it. 

I stood up on shaky legs and jumped away from the edge–right as it crumbled from the pressure. I stared at the humongous hole, realising with horror that I couldn't get back that way.

Oh well. I’d find a way. I just had to get a photo of the sunrise. The sky was now tinted pink and I was in the perfect spot, when I noticed a little further away–thankfully on the same rock so I wouldn't have to deal with gravity again–the most perfect spot I could get. I walked forward carefully, tiptoeing over the rocks and dust. 

A loud hiss interrupted my happy, reassuring thoughts and I looked up to see a humongous rattlesnake, shaking its rattle and staring straight at me. I narrowed my eyes in determination. I would get that picture, you can count on that. Slowly I moved toward the edge, trying to get around the snake so I could capture the sunrise. It hissed again and slithered toward me. Uh oh. I stared at the endless fall down and prayed I wouldn't end up like a broken rock.

Sometimes you need to take a leap of faith–and sometimes that leap is a real leap. I grasped my strength and courage and jumped over the snake, stumbling to the edge and trying to regain my balance. I released my breath and watched as the snake slunk away, obviously defeated. 

The sky was tinted blue now and the puffy white clouds were parting, revealing a glowing sun. The beams stretched out to the clouds and the colours painted the sky above The Grand Canyon. It was just magical. The tips of the rocks and points were bathed in golden sunlight and the sky slowly turned blue with every minute. 

I was snapping left and right while my heart was still trying to calm down. That’s when I spotted the rocks below me. They were quite far down but I could see it would be perfect to get a view of the sunrise from below. Without a moment's hesitation–there was maybe a bit of hesitation and reluctance–I jumped down. 

My hair tie came loose as I fell down, down, down. I had no idea it was this far down and I screamed as I went. It was like freefalling but much scarier and then…I missed the rock by a few inches. I kept falling when I should have stopped. My fingers brushed the edge of the cliff and my nails scraped into the rock to hold me steady. My stomach lurched and I repeated the words that had to continue going through my head: It’s for the photo. 

I pulled myself up and it totally felt like the scene in the movie when the brave music plays as the hero saves themselves from their brush with death. I used all my strength to pull myself up from the fall and finally I was sitting on the edge of the cliff, breathing deeply to control my racing heart. I almost died. I almost died and no one knew. 

But now I had my perfect picture. I snapped a few more shots from below and looked over them on my camera. My mouth curved into a smile and I set my camera down on the cliff watching as the sun made its way into the sky. I watched until the sky was vivid blue and my watch announced it was 9:00am. I sighed happily, then reality struck. I was stranded in the Grand Canyon. Not good. 

I snatched my camera from its spot and then I’m not sure what happened after that. Maybe it was my slippery, sweaty hands or my racing heart or maybe my terrible balance, but the camera–the one that has all my precious photos including the sunset one that I risked my life to get–flew out of my hands and fell down the cliff. I wanted to lunge for it, but I knew I would kill myself so I watched in horror as my beautiful camera disappeared into the Grand Canyon.

I crumpled to the floor, wondering why it had to end like this. I looked up and around and everywhere, finally figuring out a route I could take. I even looked down but of course there was no way there. I scaled the rocky wall, and performed quite the show of getting safely back to my caravan. 

Soon I collapsed on the squeaky pullout bed, exhausted and sad. Then I got an awesome idea, and bolted up, my back rigid. What if I became an animal photographer? My mind went straight to the snake and I decided to travel back to that spot to see if I could find it. I snatched a new hair tie, laced up my hiking boots, grabbed my emergency camera and off I went, ready to risk my life for photography!