Storms

My grandma Edith wrote poetry, sometimes even when she wasn't trying. One of my favorites is actually just a few sentences from a letter she wrote about the weather.

I like the thunder storms

when the clouds roll up

like surf coming in

and lightning walks across the sky

pulling the thunder cart behind it.

I've always loved a storm

and it makes me feel

peppier.

Indian Canyon Pictographs

Along the border of the Coral Pink Sand Dunes we found this trail to cave art. Whether they meant to record their stories for thousands of year or just draw graffiti on the wall out of boredom, I like to imagine the day(s) they painted this mural.

Sea World

Ok, so I took this picture above the splash zone (I was soaked from an earlier water ride this DECEMBER 16), but I think it is a pretty impressive example of Shamu's size and acrobatic abilities.

The other exhibit I loved was the penguins.

Top of the Skyline Drive

I've posed in front of this sign dozens of times over the last 20 years. Most times snow drifts cover the ground, even in summer.

Thistle at 12-Mile Flat

My grandmother Edith loved thistle blossoms. To most people thistles are a noxious weed. Every time I dig one up in my yard or pass one on an ATV adventure, I think of her. She asked to have thistle blossoms drape her casket when she passed away.

Bloomington Lake, Idaho

My son James began his 50-mile hike this July 6, 2009 morning. I had heard about this place, Bloomington Lake, many times but had never visited it until I said goodbye to James that day. The mosquitoes were swarming but the reflection on the lake was worth all the bugbites.

Bloomington Cave

Caves fascinate me. Stalactites and stalagmites, cave bacon, mineral straws. What lies around the next corner? The year I moved to Logan I explored the Logan Cave five or six times. My name is written on the notebook that sat next to the Maytag Man at the end of the journey. I love to hear my father tell his stories with Boy Scouts in that cave, and I am sad that my own children will never experience the rushing water, steep climbs, dirty fingerholds.

My brother Greg and his family lives near a similar cave near St. George, Utah. We explored it one Thanksgiving evening in 2008.