There are lots of canyons where they are mainly long stretched-out holes in the ground with no tops that primarily serve as a big ditch. They occasionally have a small fizzly amount of water run through them and call themselves mighty. People fall off the edge and they call themselves dangerous. A little dirt falls off their edges and is slowly carried away and they call themselves deepest. When they have a small storm pass over they call themselves dramatic. To some who have never seen a real canyon this appears to be a source of wonderment. They call them canyons.

But there are canyons and there are canyons. This is the Grand Canyon. The Grandmother of all canyons. If the perfect storm were created out of the earth instead of water it would take hundreds of them to create this canyon. Maybe thousands. When something happens here it happens on a colossal scale. Storms are bigger, deeper, higher, stronger. They contain more rain, more lightning, more power. The river that flows through it is one of the most powerful on the planet. Enough earth flows through this canyon, carried along by the strength of its movement, to form a new country.

When all those events happen at the same time we usually call that Wednesday. Where other smaller canyons do their utmost to appear mighty there is no comparison. This is the Grand Canyon, the mightiest canyon in all the world. If you thought these smaller canyons had drama they are the smallest eyelash flick of this grand old dame. Some say sixteen year old girls are the epitome of drama. Take all the sixteen year old girls alive today and all that have ever lived and their combined drama wouldn’t leave an echo in this canyon.

When something happens here it changes the world we live in. Storms, floods, rapids, waterfalls, entire counties of earth falling into the Colorado river at a time. This is the daily life of the canyon. At the Grand Canyon, we don’t do nothing nice and easy.