Riddle in the Canyon

Andy Wander wiped the sweat off his forehead, locked eyes with his sister, Eva, and grinned. They’d been playing I Spy in this canyon for a whole hour, and he hadn’t stumped her yet. That was about to change. “I spy something—”

“That spider.” Eva blurted.

“I didn’t even say the color!”

“Didn’t need to. I saw you staring at it.” Eva winked. “Am I right?”

Andy sat on a rock in defeat. “I’m bored.”

“You’re what?” their dad called from behind a boulder.

Andy exchanged a nervous look with Eva. Since Dad studied rocks for a living, canyons were basically his theme parks. And they weren’t in just any old canyon. Today, the Wander family was hiking in the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona.

Knowing that any mention of boredom might inspire a geology lecture, Eva tried to rescue Andy. “We’re not really bored, Dad. We just keep spying the same stuff because everything is kind of the same down here.”

“The same?” Dad took a break from inspecting the rocks. “Are you hearing this, hon?” he asked his wife who was standing by the riverbank holding a camera.

“Mmm-hmmm,” Mom said, not fully paying attention to what they were saying as she lined up a perfect shot of the Colorado River.

“But you and Mom have cool jobs,” Andy said. “We’d have fun too if Mom would let us use one of her cameras.”

“I don’t think so!” Mom was paying attention that time.

“Try this,” Dad said. “I spy evidence of a worldwide flood.”

“Dad.” Eva groaned. It seemed that Dad couldn’t go an hour in nature without pointing out something that showed the Genesis account is true history.

Dad raised an eyebrow. “Do you see it?”

“Sure, Dad,” Andy answered for both of them. “Fossils and stuff.”

Dad shook his head. “Somewhere close by, I spy a big riddle. Something soft and wet got folded and bent, and now it’s very brittle.”

Mom laughed and set down her camera. “How long did you work on that rhyme?”

Dad looked a little embarrassed. “Most of the morning.”

“Thought so,” Mom teased. Then she turned to the kids. “Tell you what. I’ll let you play with my instant camera. It’s only got three photos left, but if you use one to answer Dad’s riddle, I’ll refill the film. Deal?”

“Deal!” Eva and Andy yelled. Mom dug through her photography case, then handed Eva the clunky camera. “Be careful. It’s old.”

Eva smiled. This had always been her favorite camera. It didn’t take the world’s best pictures, but nothing could be cooler than holding a photo only seconds after snapping the picture. She hung the camera around her neck and ran back to Andy. “Let’s go!”

The kids wandered the bank of the river, looking eagerly at the canyon. They discovered all sorts of incredible new sights: beautiful wildflowers growing in crevices, bald eagles circling overhead, and a humongous squirrel that made Andy squeal when it darted out from beneath a rock. But nothing quite fit the riddle.

Eventually, Eva wandered off by herself to search. She was digging through brush when her brother shouted, “Look!” She ran back to find Andy sitting next to a little “snowman” he’d built out of rocks and mud.

“His name is Bubba!” Andy beamed. “Take a picture of Bubba.”

“No! We only have three shots!” “All we need is one! Come on, we’ll put a bunch of rocks around him, and maybe one of them will be soft enough for Dad.”

Eva joined him, but only because she didn’t have a better idea. They placed pebbles around Bubba, snapped a photo, then split up again. Eva showed Dad the picture, hoping he’d see something they didn’t.

Dad chuckled. “Did you name it Rocky?”

“Bubba,” Eva sighed. “I don’t know why. Boys are weird. So these rocks aren’t soft enough?”

Dad shook his head. “Think bigger.”

“Eva!” Andy shouted. “I got it!” Eva ran back to her brother, who’d found a rock jutting out of the canyon wall. “Kneel down and take a picture of this!” Andy told her.

Click!

Andy ran back to Eva, then pumped his fist when the picture printed. “Perfect!”

Eva studied the photo closer. “I don’t see it.”

“Look at my hands.” Andy pointed. “It looks like I’m holding up the rock.”

“What does that have to do with the riddle?” “Nothing. It’s just a great picture.”

Eva set the camera on a rock and put her hands on her hips. “This isn’t a game!”

“Ummm.” Andy decided not to point out that this was, in fact, a game, because he didn’t want his big sister to do that thing where she tried to twist his arm behind his back.

Art by David Leonard

“We’ve only got one shot left!” Eva said, her voice growing higher. “Dad said it’s something big, so—”

Click!

The sound made Eva stop and turn. “Nooooooo!”

The humongous squirrel that had scared Andy earlier had climbed on top of the camera and snapped a selfie. It scurried away when the photo—the last photo—printed. Eva silently picked it up.

“I—I’m so sorry,” Andy said. “I had no idea.”

“It’s fine,” Eva sighed. “At least we got a funny picture out of it.” The kids trudged back to Dad.

“Give up already?” Dad asked.

“No,” Eva said. “But this guy ruined our last chance.” She handed her dad the squirrel picture.

Dad’s eyes lit up. “You did it!”

Andy looked confused. “We did?”

“You sure did! Look closer.” When the kids looked at the photo, Dad traced the rocks behind the squirrel.

Eva gasped. “They’re bent!”

“Exactly! You couldn’t bend these rocks today.” He tapped his knuckles on the boulder to illustrate. “They’re so brittle they’d break. These rock layers could have only folded like that when they were soft and wet.”

“Like during Noah’s flood?” Andy asked.

Dad nodded. “The water carried layers of dirt to this area, and they bent before they hardened. If you know where to look, you can spot folded rocks like these across the world. These are signs of the flood, just like—”

“Just like Genesis tells us. We know.” Eva and Andy laughed.

“I guess there are some surprising things down in this canyon after all.” Eva turned to Mom. “Can we get a refill on the film?”

“Sure thing.” Mom reached for her bag then held up a finger. “But tell your squirrel friend not to use it all in one place.”

Here’s an actual photo of folded rocks in Grand Canyon.

Evolutionists believe that 460 million years passed between the time these rock layers were laid down and when they were bent. But during that time, the layers would have dried and hardened, so the folding would have broken them. We can be sure they were laid down rapidly and bent only months later during the year of the worldwide flood—no millions of years involved.