The trail descended into a narrow gorge where red rock walls rose sheer on both sides, smooth and sculpted by ancient water. The path followed a dry streambed, sand and smooth stones underfoot, and the walls leaned inward, creating a roof of sky that seemed impossibly distant. Sound behaved strangely here – my footsteps echoed and re-echoed, bouncing between the walls until they became something other than footsteps, a rhythm that seemed to come from the canyon itself. I stopped walking...
read on: 🔗 https://brush-and-tale.com/the-wanderers-tales/echo-canyon/
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