The trail down into Bryce is especially magically near dawn, when the first light begins to stream over the pinnacles, turning them increasingly pink and organs and then an almost flaming color that shifts in the changing light.
It is a quiet time as well, with few on the trail and much of the canyon beauty all to yourself. The path winds in and out of the formations and you find your head cocked back, eyes tilted as the bright morning sun washes over the rock. And then you walk around the corner and discover a different sort of lighting —soft and diffused, light — bouncing off the rocks and then reflecting it on the backside of the same formation that you’d just been starting up at so intently. A church like feeling with the presence of something unknown and powerful tugging at your emotions.