Pine

"The pine tree seems to listen, the fir tree to wait: and both without impatience -- they give no thought to the little people beneath them devoured by their impatience and their curiosity." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

It's so beautiful here.

Every once in awhile a day will go by where I fail to rise above my own life, my own self importance, to really see the mountains. It breaks my heart. I was twelve when I first came to Utah. I felt like I was in a fairy tale. The mountains are so close. You can reach out your hand and touch them. They cradle you in their arms, protecting you from the rest of the world.

In the fall it's nirvana. The crisp clean air. It reminds me of home. The leaves blanket the mountainside, which I'm lucky enough is my backyard. There is nothing like hiking in the cool aired, warm colored mountains after spending a summer in the scorching desert. There is football on Saturdays, even though it has been more years than I can remember, I would never betray that ritual. Everything is flavored pumpkin and the trees have never been so beautiful.

It's a whole other world here. I could write volumes on the oddity of Utah culture. And oh how I miss the people of the great Northwest! Sometimes I get so lonely that I feel like I can't breathe. But then I remember that I live in Utah and that it's the just the air quality and that I really can't breathe. I'm always homesick. Every time it rains I am given an incredible gift. It's euphoric and inspiring and filled with my dreams of returning. Sometimes, when the winds kick up, you can smell the Great Salt Lake as you walk through the art filled streets of the city that I have come to love so much. I pretend that it's the ocean and the world I am inhabiting instantly becomes the love child of rocky ocean cliffs and salt-sand beaches. I'm coming home, soon.

But I stand by my decision of red rocks over volcanic ones. I found my forest here. And by its trees, I have been taught how to live.