Sea of clouds fills the Grand Canyon

There are few scenes I have witnessed that left me without the words to adequately describe them. A 2012 trip from British Columbia down into Skagway, Alaska, was among them.

This is the most breathtaking sight I've seen since then. I'm looking down into the Grand Canyon, and it's completely full of clouds. If I didn't know there was a gigantic, river-carved hole in the crust of the earth right here, I wouldn't believe it.

It's not quite as pretty as the total cloud inversion that occurred in the canyon a few days earlier on Jan. 29 when the clouds were lower and thicker, but it's close. Some of them are lapping up the canyon walls and spilling out across the tree-covered landscape of the South Rim.

I'm torn between two loves. As a photographer, I'm witnessing a scene of surreal beauty I may not see again. But my girlfriend is meeting me about 30 miles southwest of here in about 45 minutes and my cell phone signal is spotty. I need to get there to meet her.

Reluctantly, I leave the viewpoint, hoping the conditions will last until I meet up with Cammie in Tusayan and bring her back into the park with me. I do stop a couple more times at drive-up viewpoints along Arizona Route 64 as I continue west toward Grand Canyon Village. Eventually, the clouds extend across the road, creating a thick fog. I'm only able to see a few car lengths ahead of me.

Soon enough I find Cammie, and we return to the park, grab a quick lunch and then head west on Hermit Road. Winter, from November through February, is the only chance to drive this road in a personal vehicle. The other nine months visitors must use shuttles to travel along the road.

We stop at a few viewpoints along the way, enough to see that the weather did wait for us. The clouds continue to move through the canyon, changing from moment to moment. At times the great Grand Canyon is completely shrouded in the mist, but within minutes, a section of clouds might shift and reveal the layers of rock on the north side.

At Hermit's Rest, the western terminus of the road, we get out and wander along the rim for a time. It takes us to the Hermit Trail, so we decide towalk down it for a bit. We only make it about a quarter-mile before we stop to just watch the clouds roll along.

As we head back up the trail it begins to rain. By the time we make it to Hermit's Rest, though, the rain is fading as quickly as it arrived, leaving a rainbow stretching down into the canyon. Mother Nature's show continues.

We warm up by the fire in the massive stone fireplace inside Hermit's Rest before returning to my car and traveling east again along Hermit Road. At Grand Canyon Village we find a place to park. We'll stay here until sunset.

As pretty as it was earlier in the day, it's perhaps even more beautiful now. While there are fewer clouds, the light filtering through the humid skies is stunningly gorgeous, bathing the mesas and pinnacles of the canyon in rich hues of red, orange and yellow. Now Mother Nature is just showing off. It doesn't even look real. This is the type of scene only found in paintings or, perhaps, science fiction movies.

The descending sunshoots its rays through trees to the west, leaving the branches in deep silhouettes as angular beams of color burst toward us through gaps in the blackness. The western clouds are now varying hues of pink and purple, almost like cotton candy perched at the edge of this great chasm.

Then almost suddenly the light is gone. The last flickers of red dance at the top of the canyon's highest points then fade to black.

Follow Brian Passey at Facebook.com/PasseyBrian or on Twitter and Instagram, @BrianPassey.