It was our last night rafting the Green River. Tired bodies dreamed inside sleeping bags on glowing sand, mid-river. My moon-drunk eyes followed the shining black line of water up the canyon, across massive cliffs, and into the endless sky. Shadow-shapes of hoodoos rose like spirits across towering walls opposite the rising moon, whose light crept quietly down into the canyon. Upon reaching the river, our floating world lit up like a black-light poster by the summer’s final full moon. First one bird, and then another began to sing; my skin shivered in answer to their rumors of midnight morning.
Kelly Coughlin is currently working on a photographic memoir about her years spent working and living at Mesa Verde National Park. Visit her on Instagram @F5_Firewhirl.