Under normal circumstances, I can readily find the origins of weird things in Arizona, but there’s one north of Flagstaff that puzzles me. No one seems to know anything about what it is, why it’s there and who put it there. It is three weathered tree trunks (they look like junipers) standing next to each other, and someone painted strange faces on them. The images on the two smaller trunks are badly faded, but the face on the tallest one is still in relatively good shape. It resembles “The Scream,” the famous expressionist painting by Norwegian artist Edvard Munch in 1893.

One of my favorite spots in Arizona is Antelope Canyon, a magnificent sandstone sculpture created by time and nature. Located near Page on the Navajo Reservation, the slot canyon is a photographer’s paradise because the waters that roar through it after a desert rainstorm have washed away portions of the canyon walls. What’s left behind are gentle swirls and abstract patterns on the remaining sandstone, enhanced by brilliant colors that multiply when the sun peeks over the rim.

Looking down into the Grand Canyon has always been a test for those vertigo because it’s thousands of feet from the top to the bottom.

And now, in what would appear to be an attempt to make it even scarier, the Hualapai Indians have the Skywalk, a glass-bottomed walkway that allows those with a high queasiness quotient to view the Canyon from 4,000 feet while they’re jutting out over the sheer drop into the thin air that surrounds the gorge.

Early day settlers Corydon E. Cooley and Marion Clark had been neighbors for a short time, living among the lush, green ponderosa forestland along Arizona’s Mogollon Rim. The two became concerned about one encroaching on the other’s privacy. Perhaps on a clear day one could see a wisp of smoke rising from other’s country. Whatever the reason Cooley and Clark agreed it was getting too crowded and one of the two parties had to move.