I Didn’t Find Awe at Devil’s Bridge
Everyone posts the same photo at Devil’s Bridge—arms out, red rock, blue sky. I hiked up on March 18, 2020, thinking I’d feel something big. Instead, the trail was empty, the air thick with news of a world shutting down. I waited for the view to hit me, to spark that sense of escape or clarity people talk about. It didn’t. I just felt small, exposed, and a little stupid for expecting a place to fix what was happening inside and everywhere else.
Sometimes the most famous spots are just rocks and sky. Sometimes you’re just a person standing there, waiting for a feeling that doesn’t come.
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