Cracks in the Mud

The largest mud plates in this photograph are about the size of a man’s hand and about as thick as his foot. The cracks are about as wide as a finger. These mud plates pave the entrance to a place named Dead Indian Canyon.

The name of the canyon troubles me. I fear that someone may have been hanged in the canyon.

The entrance is several hundred feet wide. The mud plate pavement is soft because the underside of the plates is curved and moist. Further into the canyon the ground becomes sandy, then rocky, and where the canyon ends the rocks are huge boulders, much larger than a man, and above the boulders is an oasis where palm trees grow.

Surely there is a better name for a place like this.

The canyon walls are steep and dark brown. They are made of granite. Plants grow in crevices and wild sheep, desert bighorn sheep, graze on the steep slopes.

Surely there is a better name for a place like this. Something dreadful must have happened here. Look at the cracks in the mud.