“Our plane was over the desert, somewhere near the Arizona state line, and the sun was setting directly behind us, making every tiniest crumb of rock on the littered floor of the wilderness stand out black against the last blinding beams of level light. The hills, which at midday look like pale crumpled sandpaper, now showed the most unearthly mineral tints of violet and green and orange, with deep-scooped crimson shadows. It was the sort of super-spectacle which makes some people think of God or Michelangelo, and which others find merely disgusting and dull because it seems to exclude their egos so completely.”