The Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona.
It's a place where time seemingly stands still, yet has marched on endlessly for hundreds of millions of years. It's a place that doesn't really care about what a big-shot you may be in a corporate boardroom or elsewhere. Here all beings are equal, humbled and mystically reminded of the intricate connections we all share in the web of life. To try to photograph the vistas in this amphitheater is akin to tyring to describe a passionate kiss -- some things are best said unsaid and best remembered as experiences -- here is a supreme example of one! My best experience at the Canyon was sunrise on January 01, 2000 -- it was below-freezing temperature and I had just hiked up to Hopi Point to catch the first sun rays on this 'anthropogenically created, big-to-do day, Jan. 01, 2000, the start of a new millenium!', when I was greeted by a Korean couple (on their honeymoon) sitting inside their car waiting for sunrise. We chatted and the next thing we knew the magical sunlight was hitting the blood-red walls of steep sandstone cliffs, the mind-numbing wind-chill and Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture wafting out mutedly through the speakers of the Korean couples' car -- they politely asked me if they could listen to the music softly as they watched the sunrise and if their music would bother me -- to which I had replied -- "Let's open all the doors of your car and play that piece as loudly as your speakers can put out!"... and so the three of us sat there ... two Koreans and a Indian whose different life journeys had brought them to an intersection at the edge of the Canyon ... trying to 'fit-in' in this grandest violation of human life and scale ... quiet because the only thing that we could muster to share with the Canyon then was a 1812 piece of music by a man long gone!