Regarding the place I watch the sunset
Everytime I go back to Salt Lake, I make a stop at a place. Dwarfed by Grandeur Peak, the cliffs on the turn out of Parley’s canyon are crowned with boulders. At the tops of those boulders, you can see and feel the whole valley.
The highways rush by, the cars challenged to slow on the curve that carves through the hillside just below you. Mount Olympus towers to the south, while the city spreads out below it in every direction. Go at sunset, and you’ll watch the sun touch the saddle of Antelope Island before dipping down below the lake way out to the west. While you’re watching, you’ll feel the wind pick up, carrying the cars down the canyon and into the valley.
Some of them are heading home, merging to the South or North. Usually, the bigger ones go West, toward the lake and beyond.
I bring everyone here, because its my theory that there is no better place to watch the sun set in Salt Lake. Here you can feel and watch.
On the topic of strolling through a small town
I recently traveled back to the Midwest with my mom. Its her place, her childhood, and its comfortable for her. I don't feel as at-ease in this place. The humidity frustrates me, I get disoriented without mountains or a coast. But I do love the small towns.
A walk through Grand Detour, Illinois (population 500) brought the same amount of rich imagery and detail as a big town, but with different soul.
Cities pulse with life and action. Things are happening. That's what I take in. Its exciting and distracting.
This small town was quiet. An occasional car or golf cart might drive down the road, but I was mostly alone. And that peace lets me see more. The lines of the towns, the old trees and lovingly cared for gardens. The patterns between homes- were these two built as a pair? Almost certainly.
So while I prefer the loud and overwhelming city, it was nice to have the silence force me to focus on the smaller and more peaceful.
The first of these
Over the last month or two, my favorite thing about Missoula's sky has been the way the shapes of the trees match the shapes of the clouds. Both are swollen and round with spring freshness and at times they touch and trace each other across the skyline.
And in the last few days, the clouds have developed a habit of bursting in the evening, dramatic and broody over those trees.
There are few things more wonderful than a broody summer sky over the unknowing and innocent full greenness of those trees.