At the bottom of a steep bluff, the sapphire ribbon of a river runs peacefully through the canyon. The stone of the cliff face has a soft, sunbaked umber hue that gives the area a feeling of warmth. Glints of purple sparkle from jagged rock clefts—hard, sour but refreshing, fruits of the stubborn plants that grow only here. A yellow-bellied marmot pokes out from one of these crevices, ties a fruit to their back, and begins nimbly scaling the cliff toward you.
