A few weeks ago I visited Arches National Park for the first time. I stared in amazement as I watched as the evening sun set fire to the red rocks. Of all the diverse landscapes found in this state, the red rock country seems the most un-earthly to me. I imagine I could pitch a tent on a redrock cliff and live there until I was withered and gray, and still I would feel like a foreigner on its terrain.
One evening I hiked up to see Delicate Arch, the rock formation showcased on Utah license plates. As I watched the sun dance across this famous arch, I smiled at the whispered land-praises coming from the hikers surrounding me. The various accents and languages revealed how far we’d all traveled to meet on that same peak. Although I’d never seen Delicate Arch in person before, it felt over-poweringly familiar. I reasoned this connection I felt with the arch was just a result of seeing it so often on the masses of cars. Then I made a discovery. The Delicate Arch and I hold a kinship that runs deeper than cartoon sketches on license plates. Do you see it?
Check out the negative space in the heart of the arch. I’ll zoom in a little closer so you can get a better view:
This is perhaps the best fortune I’ve ever found inside a cookie.
I found this beauty reclining outside a thrift store in Moab, UT. I’ve been looking for a bike, and when I took a closer look I knew we were destined to find each other. We were both, in fact, made in the year, in the same small part of this globe. To top it off (and not to cheapen her any) I was able to talk $45 off the price.
She still does not have a name. Any ideas?
I think I have the most adorable landlord in the world. He insists we call call him Strat, but how can you when his full name is so perfect: Stratford Wendelboe. He recently treated my three housemates and me out to dinner at The Roof, a $40 per person gourmet buffet. We are currently living in his childhood home. I loved our 3-hour long dinner conversation (well, story-time) about his childhood. Honestly, I feel so honored to know this man.
I just came across the first photo I have ever seen of my paternal great-grandparents.
Doesn’t it make for a lovely engagement photo??
Today I sat on a log in the middle of a stream in Logan Canyon.
And I breathed in the decaying earth.
And I can see a little more clearly now.
“The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind.
Hone and spread your spirit,
till you yourself are a sail,
whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.”