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Seeing Red

The drive up the 'The Mountain' is extraordinary and never ceases to amaze my senses.

The road winds around the Southern Utah countryside as it climbs in elevation.

At first you cross through a dry dusty landscape that almost seems as if it has long lost all desire to bring forth beauty. The dirt and rocks are pale brown and the vegetation is sparse and unattractive. Then, as your climb  takes you higher and deeper into the mountains the changes of environment slowly become more apparent. Here a Cactus has blossomed with the added moisture in the ground, there a small cluster of Quaking Aspens grows towards the heavens.

One of the most interesting parts of the entire drive, though, is the road itself. Since the family's land lies just outside of Zion National Park a significant portion of the trip is spent on Federal land.  What makes this fun is that all of the roads in Zion N.P. are red.

Not red like a firetruck, but red like the sandstone blows in the winds of this area. Rusty Red like the edge of a worn piece of metal. The red roads beautifully match the rock formations that are so impossible to ignore.

I often wonder, as I'm driving up that road, why some of the land was chosen for the Park and other land wasn't. Surely someone didn't stop walk the edges of the land and say, "This right here is ugly, we can't add that in," because it's all rather fantastic (although I will admit that Zion has a monopoly on the breathtaking).

I feel almost sad when I drive over that last bit of demarcation and enter into county road once more, as if the red pavement actually enhanced the beauty all around me. Yet, I can still pull over, get out and marvel at the Hand of God all around me. It makes no logical sense that the color of the path should change my view on the world around me, and yet it seems to do so.

I wonder how many things within life I alter merely because of the way that they are presented to me. Food, clothes, homes, even people. Then I realize that regardless of my perspective, the landscape really hasn't changed and is still just as beautiful. The fault does not lie with the object in question, but with me.

I'll have to work on that.

Comments

Ashy said…
This was beautiful... Definitely some food for thought for me as well....
Polly Blevins said…
I totally agree with all of the above. I get homesick when I see the red rock or when I see rock period. Zion is my most favorite place in the world.

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Mutterings of a Middle-Aged Dreamer

Use your words, my dear sweet soul, they are inside of you... So find them. Write, you silly girl, write so hard the world will never forget you.
But does it matter if the world remembers you? 
Age begins to press its hands upon your chest and the need to be remembered seems to increase with the pressure. 
Stop.
That's not a line of thought you're interested in pursuing. 
Live in the now.
Does it matter if the world remembers you if your neighbor is going hungry? 
Perhaps age is merely pushing you out the door. 
Go. Live in the now.