Chaco Canyon is special to me beyond words. It is a place that always evokes the twin feelings of awe and mystery, and the more we learn about the Chacoans and their culture, the more enigmatic they seem to become. It is quite possible, even likely, we of this time will never know the full story of their rise or of their demise. Even so, the awesome structures of their great houses, and Pueblo Bonito in particular, will continue to intrigue us and challenge our sense of who we believe we are and how unique we believe ourselves to be in the “modern” world. Wherever we arrive in our journey, Pueblo Bonito will always remind us that we were not the first in this land to dream great dreams, nor to suffer the consequences of those reveries. To be in Pueblo Bonito is to be humbled by history, or to admit, if we dare, that we are arrogant beyond salvation. This was what ran through my mind as I stood before the plaza of Pueblo Bonito and its array of kivas looking at the lines of mortered rock that formed the double wall between a pair of them, with a section of the ruin and the canyon wall behind. A focal length of 17mm gave me the angle-of-view I wanted. An aperture of f/20 and a shutter speed of 1/8th second at ISO 100 gave me a medium overall exposure. What happened here in the four centuries of Chacoan prominence is an important page in the great drama of humanity.