As Mother Nature turns up the dials on her regional shower show, you hear a thunderous noise on the metal roof of your tool shed that you are hiding in. The canyon walls are now sending a hundred shimmering waterfalls down off the plateau above as the physics of gravity comes into play. As they hit little rocky protrusions, the collected water leaps away from the hard walls like a pod of dolphins in the ocean: only sideways. The leafless maple is holding steadfast in this drenching downpour. As the hours tick away, the trout stream has crested its bank and is turning the front yard into a shallow lake. This will help tremendously with installing some lush green color into that brown, winter grass. Another couple of hours, and the front seems to have stalled. It is pouring profusely, and the higher elevation of the tool shed is now separated from the house by a wide river. Two hours later, and all hell breaks loose. A freight train is heading towards the canyon, and it is in the form of a giant wall of water, boiling life away in front of it. It hits the maple tree head on as the wet soil holding it in place surrenders. The giant sentinel bends over 90° and now goes mobile. Its main branch goes right through the bedroom window of the house and tries desperately to hang on. As the base rotates around on the raging torrent, the branch is extracted from the house and the entire maple roars downstream like a kayak. Wow! It seems wicked Johnny got impaled on that branch, and he is now the captain in the elevated wheelhouse of the USS Mapletree. Evil Johnny was never seen again. The reasons for living in a canyon are as diverse as the residents who settle there. A little knowledge in geology and 1 soon understands just how that canyon came to be. With every 50-, 100-, 500- and 1,000-year floods, the valley floor gets a little deeper and the magnificent majesty of the entire canyon grows increasingly in magnitude. This is why some people love to live in canyons.