"No navigator to guide my way home,
Unladen, empty and turned to stone.
A soul in tension, that's learning to fly,
Condition grounded but determined to try.
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies,
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I ..."
The Flying Buttress and Moose Butte catch the afternoon sun, as they make their unearthly rise above a sea of junipers; making up the mouth of lower Oak Creek Canyon in central Arizona.
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