Friday, September 9, 2016

Mt. Timpanogos and Her Relatives -


I love mountains, and even though I lived in the potato-lands of Southeastern Idaho, I considered the Menan Buttes, the rolling farmland, and the view of the Idaho-side of the Tetons my mountains. And of course, 45 minutes up the road was the Lodgepole pine'd Island Park, a few miles more and we were either in Grand Targhee, West Yellowstone, or beautiful Swan Valley.

I was at home in the mountains of Northern Utah - particularly the gorgeous drive through Sardine Canyon into Logan. Later, the kudzu-covered, blossom-abundant, hills of Northwestern Alabama brought me more comfort than I had ever expected.

And of course, the past twenty-odd years I have found peace and beauty in Provo Canyon, the Nebo Range, the Wasatch Mountains, the Alpine Loop, and Scott's beloved Zion.

Yet it's Mount Timpanogos that wakes with me in the morning and nods to sleep with me in the evenings. She is always constant in structure and ever-changing in attire. She is beautiful wearing snow, green grass, and the golds and bronzes of the aspen and autumnal grasses. She is my reminder that God is good, that Utah Valley is home, and that there is beauty in being strong and solid and sensual.

I am lucky - and blessed.


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