After The Storm

We were painting the house when it started to rain ... again. We put away the paintbrushes and decided to go check out a different kind of painting. I thought we were going to head up Little Cottonwood Canyon to look for autumn leaves, but it was already late and I knew that by the time we got there, it would be almost dark. We headed to Farmington Canyon instead.

 After the storm rolled across the valley, there was a period of about two minutes where the island and clouds were perfectly reflected in glassy water. Didn't get a good shot of that. We were too far up the canyon for it to work out, but I did get this one.

 As the storm was moving up the canyon, the light got pretty eerie and I tried to take a picture of autumn leaves lit by the sun and rain. I forgot to hold the camera still and got this picture instead.

 The lake was still a pretty good subject, so Janene and I did get some nice photos of the lake and Farmington Bay. My mom used to tell us about chasing sunsets with Grandpa Morton, driving like crazy to get to the right spot to see a spectacular sunset. A few times in my life, I was with him when the light changed in the canyon, and we were off, camera in hand, to capture something that you don't see every day. Tonight was a little like that, only I was with my sweetheart this time.

Oh, and those autumn leaves we were really planning on seeing?

We saw a few of those too!

The Golden Days of Indian Summer

A week or so ago, Brooke called me to ask if the autumn leaves were out. We had seen the first red maples on our way up to Clyde Lake. I told her they must surely be brilliant by now. She sent me a picture from Soapstone that was somewhat less than brilliant. I think they were disappointed.

I often get a chance to drive up the canyon as part of my work and today was one of those perfect days of Indian Summer where work and pleasure mix. I wish we weren't caught up in getting the house ready for winter. A nice trip on the Skyline Drive would be in order. If I cannot go up to watch the leaves, maybe my kids and grandkids could enjoy it for me. Send me some pictures when you find some worthy color.

A Night Near Bald Mountain (apologies to Mussorgsky)

A nice little backpacking trip to the Uintas just before the end of summer was the setting for a ton of fun for David, Laura, Sam and myself. We hiked in to Clyde Lake where we set up a base camp just below timberline. We hiked past Crystal Lake, Lily Lake, Cliff Lake and Watson Lakes before we got there just as the sun was going down. It looked like rain, so there was no time to fish that night. I got up early because I heard the clop clop clop if hooves on bare rock. I thought it might have been the mountain goats that frequent the area, but it was only a herd of deer. Still, the early morning walk before everyone got up took me to all three of the Three Divide Lakes. These spring-fed lakes sit on top of the ridge with one of them draining to the Weber River and the other two going to the Provo River.

 Laura was really stylin' in her father's coat. It seems that her dad said "Pack some clothes" but he forgot to say "warm clothes". Since it froze, it was a good thing her father (Scoutmaster) was prepared. Somehow she slept the whole night through and never heard the thunder and lightning or the hail that pelted her tent.

 Sam was able to enjoy fishing on Clyde when it wasn't raining. Once he got his gear set up, he was off and catching fish. He only popped one bubble, which was fortuitous since I only brought two. One for me - and one for him.

 We hiked over to the Big and Little Twin Lakes and walked over to the cliff edge to take a look at Wall Lake and Trial Lake from our lookout near the notch in Notch Mountain.  Sam had lots of luck fishing, but it wasn't until we got to the Little Twin that he got one big enough for lunch. Sam fell in love with this guy and just had to re-enact the family kiss-pose.

We both caught these fish at the same time. We took them back to camp and fried them up in bacon grease and picked the bones clean. Sam though his fish tasted like salmon and my little brookie tasted like filet mignon (maybe it was the other way around). It just goes to prove the old Chinese proverb that "everything tastes better in bacon grease" - especially when you are having the time of your life in God's country.

View From a Robin's Nest

OK -What happened to the desert we are supposed to be living in. From the Robin's nest where I have been working this week, I would have to say that we have a forest bungalow.

 After a rain, it always looks nice from the perch at the top of the house.

 There is always that little catch in my throat as I look down.

Here is the view of the lake through the tree. Just about time lay down this weary bird.