But when I am alone in the half-light of the canyon all existence seems to fade to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.
En ūegar ég er einn í skugga gljúfursins.. virđist öll tilveran fjara út í veru sálar minnar.. og hljķđiđ í Big Blackfoot ánni og fjķrskipta taktsins..