Death Valley
Sing, O Muse, of Death Valley—that vast and desolate realm where the earth stretches out like the barren plains of the underworld. The open spaces of that land are truly a sight to behold, overwhelming to the mortal spirit as the silence of the abyss overwhelms the soul. Yet there is a certain stark beauty to it all, a beauty as austere and powerful as the face of an angry god. I found myself completely entranced during my visit when November's chill had arrived in the year two thousand and eleven, as if I had glimpsed the very edge of the world where Odysseus sailed beyond the known boundaries of mortal men.