The Low Wall

Polly flew across the high desert of Arizona and landed at the mouth of a famous canyon. At first she was not impressed. The red walls at the entrance were only about thirty feet high. They were hardly taller than the old cottonwood trees on the sandy floor below them.

A raven was looking for insects under the bark. This canyon does not start big, he said. It grows. Walk into it. The Navajo people, the Diné, call this place Tséyiʼ. It means inside the rock. Spanish visitors wrote the word their own way, and that spelling stayed.

So maps say Canyon de Chelly, and people say it like the word shay. The canyon floor belongs to the Navajo Nation, and it is not an empty place. About forty Diné families live inside the canyon and grow food there. People have lived along this sandy wash for more than four thousand years.

Polly looked down the canyon. The sand curved away between the walls, and the walls grew a little taller at every bend. She had planned to stay one afternoon. Instead she found a branch, lifted one foot, and decided to follow the sand for seven days.