"If you could have that one day back, the one that you have kept a secret in your soul, what day would it be? What? One among the many? Well, let me make you this offering: It would be the day on which I stood on the rim of Monument Valley and beheld those ineffable monoliths for the first time. I was young, you see, like a fledgling who leaves the nest and flies out over the earth. I saw beyond time, into timelessness. It was the first and holiest of all days. On such a day— on that original day—did the First Man behold the First World. It filled him with wonder and humility. Then and there, looking for one enchanted moment into eternity, I was the First Man. I was present at Creation."
— Navarre Scott Momaday, Kiowa poet, born 1934