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| © 2013 Ken W. Hall |
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| © 2013 Ken W. Hall |
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| © 2013 Ken W. Hall |
"Last light on the Madison, specifically below Ennis Lake in the Bear Trap and below the dam, is magic…nothing more, nothing less. A perfect time and place to shoot images of the day, the land and the river and my Soul."
"It was half pass eight in the evening, the light was waning rapidly and one could smell the evening descending upon me, the camera and the tripod. Time was moving fast, second only to the raging water headed for the Missouri River to continue its trek across the continent. The final movement of the symphony was in the baton of the Conductor.
One could smell behind me at the foot of the canyon wall and a shear climb to the sky of the mountain, conifer trees and massive boulders perched precariously on slivers of shoes of an invisible ballerina poised in solitude awaiting the strike of the Conductor's baton. Without provocation, rhyme or reason the baton put the dance into immediate motion with a crescendo the summoned hair to raise in awesome reverence of what had been set into motion. A boulder, one balanced precariously on pointed toe, crashed with a thunder that shattered the solemn quiet. Trees crashed and snapped at the onslaught as the silence of the music was splintered as if it were one of the conifers. With a heightened intensity, the boulder commenced an urgent and chaotic head over heel tumble toward the parking lot where my truck was lying in silence, waiting for my return. The moments happened so quickly that i stood in amazement as the boulder pummeled the mountain side and all things destined for the moment. Ten, fifteen or twenty seconds was the span of time in the entire production with a final resonance of thunderous sound as the boulder exploded into a conduit pipe some eight to ten feet in diameter and made of heavy walled steel. The sound was explosive and resonant in the canyon…and then it was over, finished, except for the echo bouncing off canyon walls as it ricocheted erratically northward.
I stood in the new silence, in amazement and gratitude that if the conductor had chosen a different movement of the baton, I and my truck would have ceased in the physical for eternity. Why was it the way it was? What had been the thoughts that had created this performance? Why was I given a ticket? All viable questions… but was there an answer to any of these queries. Of course there was, nothing happens without a divine plan that answers queries, whether in silent thought or spoken word. On more than one previous occasion while in this canyon I had asked in silent thought or verbal presentation, "I wonder what the sound of the descent of such a boulder would sound like?"
I know that every request is answered, likely not in the expected time for which I ask, but in the perfect time and the perfect manner it will come. It was perfect in the solitude of the canyon until my answer arrived. The circumstances dictate that the memory and the music of the composition will never leave my Soul.
One last bit of information, the boulder was at least half the size of my truck. No match, no contest except for the miracle of answered prayer."
Ken W. Hall
June 26, 2013
The Bear Trap Canyon on the Madison River
