A couple of weeks ago, two friends and I hiked the
Delicate Arch trail in Arches National Park, Moab, UT. Because they go there
often, my friends were terrific guides to that strange and beautiful land. As
for me, I could hardly stay on the path for trying to take in the combinations
of colors, the juxtapositions of textures, the play of light and shadow, the mixture
of shapes both graceful and grotesque. If you have been there, you know that
the Utah desert is one of the many places in this world where even expert
photographs cannot do the landscape justice. Nevertheless, many of us (and
there were plenty of us out that day) had our cameras pointing every
which-a-way as we tried to capture something of the grand drama of the place.
The trail was also a good place for people watching, but
nothing I saw along the way quite prepared me for the interactions of hikers at
the Delicate Arch itself. Nearly everyone wanted photographs of themselves with
their family or friends standing next to or under the immense arch. With so
many people converging at the same time, accomplishing that goal could have been
complicated. Someone could have been bossy or pushy or impatient—in any one of
several different languages. Most of us were hot, tired, and thirsty. The hiking
equivalent of “road rage” could have erupted.
Instead, quite spontaneously, cooperation happened. Those
whose shoes worked a little better on the slick rock or who were a little
stronger of body or a little steadier of balance helped those who needed a
boost to cross from the trail to the arch and back. People from one group
handed their cameras off so that someone from another group could photograph
them, and then cameras traded hands again and someone from the first group
reciprocated. Everyone was able to manage the terrain; everyone was able to get
the desired photo. It felt like a minor miracle.
Granted, there were no immense or complicated issues that
we strangers faced that day, nothing exhaustively compelling or pressing we
needed to work out among ourselves. Still, the model I saw emerge from a
disparate group of hikers of varied ages, different languages, and, I assume
diverse religious and philosophical traditions, gives me hope for our world. Spontaneous
cooperation, we might call it. May it break out all over this planet! May we
let it guide us, no matter where our paths go. May we give thanks for those in
whom we encounter it along the way.
Oh, Angier I love this. Thanks so much for noticing, writing it up and sharing. Hope you are well. Linda
ReplyDeleteMakes me want to live in a world like that. Tom
ReplyDelete