We had awoken at three a.m. to break camp at the bottom of the Grand Canyon to get as far along our return to the rim before the heat and intense sun began their assault on us. Our guide, another in our party, and I had dropped off some duffels to be carried out by mule at Phantom Ranch, a half-mile from our campsite, and we were returning in the dark to meet the others and begin our upward trek. Straight ahead, in a notch between two distant bluffs, hung the moon - a crisp bright crescent against the darkness that my camera rendered as an amorphous blob. The canyon exists in two worlds, dark and light, each with indescribable beauty. The dark night, devoid of light pollution, reveals the stars as the original canyon inhabitants saw them – uncountable, bright, seemingly nearly close enough to touch. As the sun begins its arrival, the sky’s occupants disappear, and the landscape is painted with vivid colors. We rejoined the others, collected our things, said goodbye to the can