In the Grand Canyon, camping for two weeks in late May-early June, my mind often lapsed into a state of delirium between sunrises and sunsets. I began to question my choices: Why the Grand Canyon? Why in summer? Why camp? Why on earth do I want to be a photographer when I already had a job? This is when I started praying for things—wildlife (nothing with no legs or many legs), rain, lightening, clouds—anything that would be photoworthy and help pass time. These prayers were sometimes answered like in this moment when a sieve of clouds engulfed the sun, adorning the stretch of canyon beyond Pinal Point in beams and pools of light.