Thinking About Flowers

A few weeks ago we spent a warm sunny Sunday evening at Temple Square here in Salt Lake City.  I love flowers; they are among the things, along with music, sunsets, the sweetness of little girls and the laughter and pure joie de vivre of young boys, that make me believe in a benevolent God.

I know evolutionary biologists have explanations for flowers and colors: how plants developed all colors as a survival mechanism, to give them distinction and advantage in a quest for the love of bees and other necessaries; how our eyes learned to register different frequencies of light as color because it gave us survival possibilities not present in those with out such a blessing;  how all of this is the logical result of an all-consuming survival imperative in competition for limited resources.  Perhaps; but I see God in the fact that such a brutal, chaotic system can produce such magnificent beauty and order.  For me, as it was for Einstein, it is this inexplicable yin from the yang of chaos that testifies of divinity.

When I think that the survivable sphere of our existence is perhaps five or six miles from top to bottom; that above it there is nothing but killer cold and life sucking vacuum, and below it only  unsurvivable heat and crushing force; that we just happen to be the perfect distance from life-giving light and heat so that we do not fry or freeze; and that in all the vastness of the universe, this less than microscopic little space prevails against gravity (or its absence) and other gargantuan forces that threaten to rip it apart, I am in awe.  

That it produces the miracles of flowers and beautiful girls is beyond comprehension, and proof enough of God for me.  I think no other explanation possible.

So here is to the flowers, and all they stand for.  Some say in heaven the streets are paved with gold.  I don't know about that, but I think the air is filled with music and the laughter of boys, there are flowers as far as the eye can see . . .

and the sky is always in sunset.

My Favorite Series

Spring means many things for us, but new to our lives is spring soccer.  It is a fitting activity;  few things capture the joy of spring like young boys running in the sun on fresh-cut grass.  That spirit is evident in the five photos that follow, in what has to be one of my favorite series of photos in a long time.  

First, the pell mell break from the typical rugby scrum, otherwise known as pee wee soccer.

Next, the goal comes into sight.

Getting in close, and angling to the corner past the pesky goalie.

Realizing with confident satisfaction what just happened.

And jumping for all he is worth.  

If that is not the actual embodiment of life and joy, it nonetheless makes a great substitute.  He was so happy.  Long live the mighty Orange Pumpkins!  

Of course, like spring, that joy sometimes doesn't last as long as one might wish.

Here is Alden trying desperately, a few minutes later, to stop the opposing team from scoring.

And this is the result when he couldn't. 

So, do you think he has a little competitive streak in him, or what?  Disappointments notwithstanding, it was a great day.

Trouble Beyond Compare

I have known since about a month or so into my relationship with my wife that she was so much smarter and more capable than me that it was just silly (should have known it a lot earlier than that, but I am a little thick in the "there are people in the world smarter and more capable than you" department). I have now discovered the same thing about my daughter. The other day she used the word "retroactive" properly in a sentence. She is 9 years old. I am sure I did not know that word until my first year of law school.

Then, on top of that, she gave this note to my wife for Mothers Day today.

I did not know who Shakespeare was until I hit high school. Kate is already using him to praise her mother, and I am certain I would fumble in any attempt to outdo her here, so I won't. There are those who would say that having two women in your family that are smarter than you is nothing but trouble.  If so, I have trouble beyond compare. 

Happy Mother's Day from perhaps the fifth most eloquent person in your family, sweetheart.  You are an amazing mom raising remarkable children, working a challenging job, volunteering, cooking, cleaning, and caring for others, all at once.  It gets lost in the whirlwind sometimes, but I love you madly.

Kudos to The Nature Conservancy

Having recently returned to the Wasatch Front, after growing up here and then moving away for so many years, I have become acutely aware of at least two things:  first, that I did not take nearly enough advantage of the beauties and opportunities of this place while growing up; and second, how much it has changed, fueled by ever growing  crowds, powerful developers, and other forces which place those beauties in constant danger.

How thrilled I was, then, to discover the Nature Conservancy at work within site of my home, out on the shores of the Great Salt Lake.  They have purchased a large preserve in West Layton, and we took the family for a stroll two weeks ago to enjoy the board walk out among the wetlands. 

Here is Aldy, walking by Binocular (not a recommended practice) along the mile-long board walk.  I don't know what it is about kids and board walks, but there is an undisputed attraction that makes a stroll so much more exciting.

The grasses were still in their finest winter shade of amber, and shone brightly in the evening sun.

Unique viewing platforms along the way (pics at the end of this post) provided vistas of wetlands with Salt Lake City and the Wasatch Front as a backdrop.

Above is the view of my hometown, Bountiful, from one of those platforms.  If you look at the left side of the photo, about mid-way up, you will see an empty foothill, with houses just to the right.  Our house sits in that group of homes, and has wonderful, though distant, views of the lake and these wetlands.  

Even without any wildlife, a winter evening walk here is a joy, with the mountains lit up in the evening sun.  (I know, I know, you are saying to yourself "Winter? Why does he keep saying Winter? Isn't it April?" Well, in the last week of March and the first week of April, Alta ski resort reported 143 inches -- fourteen feet!-- of new snow. I am beginning to think Spring is just a nice fairy tale we tell our kids to make them feel better. . . )

The photo above is Kath and the kids walking the board walk under a full moon, just as the sun was setting. We stayed well past sunset, which was so worth it, because it was then . . .

that the Sand Hill Cranes flew in.  These are magical birds, and I will never forget my first encounter with them (thank you Steve and Heidi!).  Their loud honking is the sound of dinosaurs and dark forests, of vast expanses and ages without a human being in sight.  At sunset, it will take you away.

How grateful I am for those who work against all odds to preserve little pieces of magic amidst the tide of human creation. What a great Sunday evening.  

Mysterious Visitor

Around our house, we have some philosophical concerns surrounding certain holidays, Easter being one of them. The debate goes something like this: "If we tell them there is an Easter Bunny, and then later say 'just kidding!' what will they think when we tell them we really do believe in Jesus Christ and his resurrection?  And how did we go from the sublime to bunnies anyway?"  

Now, since I passed through that potential minefield of confusion just fine growing up, I am not so concerned as my wife, who may just have unresolved issues.  So we were debating whether we should even talk about the Easter Bunny a few nights ago, as the holiday approached.

Unresolved, we woke to this in our back yard the next morning (go ahead, enlarge and look closer):


They went right up the stairs to our house.  Coincidence?  Or sign?  The debate continues, but irrespective of the conclusion, there can be no question that a bunny visited our house on or about Easter 2009.

Consequently, we had a great day.

Upon seeing his Ultimate Build It Yourself Lightsaber Kit and corresponding Star Wars The Complete Cross Sections book, Alden exclaimed "Yes!  Easter Rocks!"

Keegan was heard to say "Mmmmmm, Chocolate!" several times, and could hardly wait to use his wheelbarrow and shovel, to help Kate with her favorite Easter gift -- tons of flowers to plant!

Happily, Easter day dawned warm and sunny, and the snow of days ago was gone, so the Moon cousins could come over for the annual backyard Easter Egg Hunt.

Papa helped Keegan understand the object of the game -- good thing, cause it wasn't going to catch on otherwise.

Here he is trying to take eggs out of the basket and give them back!

In case you didn't know it, the only proper way to hunt Easter Eggs is with a light saber -- those things are dangerous, don't ya know?

Here are Kate and Molly, scouring the grounds for their treasure.

Unfortunately, cousin Jude was suffering from "technical difficulties," and it took only one look to let his mother know he was not so happy about them getting in the way of his hunting.

Luckily, the damage was repaired, and mom and dad made amends by helping him with the hunt.

Cousins Leah and Abbey also had a great time. Sorry we didn't get pics of Angela, Kevin and Grandma Val, but a good time was had by all. Thanks for coming over, guys!

Antelope Island II

We went to Antelope Island again yesterday, and I have to say, this place is underrated any way you look at it (at least in the winter and early spring, before the bugs come out).  First, how lucky are we to be able to see bison within an hour of our home?  We also saw pronghorn antelope as the night set in. Very cool.

As you can see if you look past those two drop-dead handsome boys, when you get out here before sunset you see the whole Wasatch Front lit up before you.  It is a knockout vista. This was taken from Buffalo Point after a short but steepish hike.  The boys and I were alone on this one, because poor Kate was sick and unable to make the trip with us, mom had to stay home and do the taxes (in case I haven't mentioned it hear lately, I really love that woman). 

The views to the west and south are just as good.  Keegan was a real gamer on our hike, insisting on walking and going everywhere Alden went, and Alden was just great, running up the trail and so happy just to be exploring.  His first words to me when we got to the island were "Dad, are we far from the city? I want to see how far away we are from the city. This is great!"  

The top of Buffalo Point is filled with really great scrambling and climbing rocks, and the kids just went to town.  No need for a play structure when you have these. It kept them very busy until sunset.  Even then they didn't want to leave -- Alden exclaimed "Darn!  I should have brought a flashlight!" Keegan was a little more anxious to get out of the constant stiff wind, but hung in, nonetheless, for a sunset photo before we headed back.

We topped it off with a cone at Nielson's on the way home. Tough to beat that, if you ask me. 

I Am Not Tired Dad!

A week ago Keegan was my little buddy. He was sick, and just wanted to be with me every minute of the day.  That is pretty endearing, but he was so tired all the time he could hardly hold his head up.  However, whenever I asked him if he wanted a nap, I got a sharp NO! in response.  His last words before falling asleep in mid-McNugget bite:  "I am NOT tired dad. I'm Not."  And yes, I did have to fish half-chewed McNugget out of his mouth before I layed him down in bed.

He has been such a sweetheart lately. He just loves giving big hugs to grandma, grandpa, and all of his family.  Multiple kisses are also a favorite activity.  And it is pretty clear he has his Dad's tender heart.  He has been very concerned for Kate while she has been sick, snuggling her with all his might.  Then last week his brother came home crying because the neighbor boy refused to let him borrow a toy gun.  (Nicholas was right about that -- the last one took months to pry from Alden and give back.)  Keegan grew very concerned, headed into the kitchen, grabbed two fistfuls of just-made brownie, and ran to console his brother with them.  Of course Alden, being in that "I didn't get my way so I am going to be a pill" mood, just slapped them away, and poor Keegan was heartbroken.  I think he cried harder than Alden.  

The greatest thing is to hear Keegan talk, though. One of these days I have to figure out how to post video to blog, because it is just a kick.  Keep in mind that he is about 5th percentile height (and wouldn't even be 20th percentile weight if he didn't have his dad's belly), so when he sits down next to you and says "So, Dad, how ya been?" or responds to the same question by saying "Oh, I've been pretty good," it really throws you.  He is a lot like Kate when it comes to that, very articulate and observant.  I will have to post some examples when I have more time. All that said, he will probably be what causes me to lose the rest of my too-quickly graying hair (maybe not such a big loss come to think of it), but I sure love my little guy.

Bear River Migratory Refuge

On Tuesday we took a break from the routine, and after work the family met me in Ogden to travel just a little further north to the Bear River Migratory Refuge. Some of you may have heard about this place if you have read Terry Tempest Williams at all. It does not take long to find out that it is a truly special place.

On the road in, we saw an owl right away.

There were many Avocets poking around.

And if you have sharp eyes, you can even see a beaver, or a muskrat, depending on who you talk to.  Either way, it is not that often you get to see one of those in the wild, is it?

If you look at this one enlarged,  you will see right away why they call these "Pintail" ducks.

We were there late, and just as the sun was setting, they began to fly in by the hundreds.  Who are they,  you ask?

Tundra Swans. Hundreds of them.  The light was really hazy with high clouds, and gave off this blue quality which really made these beautiful white birds pop out as they floated on the water.

There was one bird that looked like a swan, but was totally black.  Any thoughts?  Immature Tundra  Swan, or something else?

Even without the birds, and in bad light, this place is visually breathtaking.

But the coolest part is not the visual.  You have to hear this place to believe it.  There is so much noise, very primordial. It is worth the trip just to roll down your windows and listen.

As the evening darkened, we drove out, only to see these three pelicans, floating absolutely still in the dim light. Meanwhile, on the other side of the road, this family of deer was munching down.  

All in all, I would say that is not a bad after-work activity.  What a great place.