When the Canyon Whispers: A Lesson in Presence from the North Rim

We had planned to go to LA for the 4th of July this year. However, wildfires along the route forced us to change our plans. We decided to visit the North Rim of the Grand Canyon instead. I had never visited, and the chance to explore other gems along the way made the long road trip worthwhile.

It was a quiet escape to the North Rim. Nature felt untouched. The views stretched endlessly. The historic Grand Canyon Lodge hugged the rim like a secret waiting to be discovered. Nestled in pine forests, with cool breezes and golden sunsets, the resort promised a peaceful stay, and it delivered. The rustic cabins and the stillness of the nights felt timeless. The moment you walk out and see that canyon drop away is unforgettable.


And yet, just days later, we heard the heartbreaking news: the lodge had been destroyed by wildfires.

It is difficult to put into words the emotion. Shock. Grief. Gratitude. We had just been there, sipping coffee in the sun room while the baby tried out her new binoculars, watching light dance on ancient rocks. We had walked those beautiful wooden floors, attended the Junior Ranger Program (and even answered questions like a front bencher), waved to strangers as if we were all part of some secret club that got to witness something sacred.

And now it’s gone.

This experience hit me in a way I didn’t expect. It was a loud reminder of how unpredictable life is. Places, people, moments—they don’t last forever. Nature is powerful, beautiful, and, at times, unforgiving. But in that unpredictability lies the message: be present. Be present wherever you are, with whoever you are. The present never comes back.

I’m so thankful we didn’t rush through that trip, that we stayed for a day longer than we should have, appreciated beautiful sunsets, stayed up late looking at the stars, enjoyed beverages at the saloon, relished delicious dinners at the restaurant, stared at the canyons, and sat still in silence just to soak it all in. If I had known it would be the last time that lodge stood there, I wouldn’t have done anything differently, because we truly lived in the moment. I am glad we did.

Let this be a reminder: don’t wait for “someday.” Take the trip. Check things off your bucket list. Watch the sunset. Sit by the fire (not in a forest, though). Life is fleeting—make the most of it.