8.21.2010

Inside my house, I often feel like everything is making a sound, except me. Carl has been camping for a class, which leaves me rather quiet. I don't mind this, I know it won't be this way for much longer, and I do value solitude and time with books. On Wednesday I went up Little Cottonwood Canyon to bring Carl some things and to visit for the night. He was staying at the top of the canyon in a basin where a glacier used to be. It rained and I watched the water fall in long drops while I stood beneath a gathering of pine trees. When the rain stopped, we hiked out into the meadows. The flowers faded in the colors like a sunset. The clouds were still heavy and grey. If I were tall enough, I would have laid my head on them and taken a little nap. We found a limestone boulder where the top layer had not been fully crushed or dissolved and instead of the normal dark slate color of limestone, we could make out each little shell and crustacean. I bent down close and ran my fingers across and around as many as I could. I've said this to Carl quite a few times now: I love learning about evolution. My heart stirs when I learn something new about the way our earth and we have come to be. I am grateful that God has left us evidences on the tops of mountains that tell us we are so young, and a part of something much bigger than we now know. On the way back to camp, we stopped and looked down into another meadow. A sturdy moose, black and anterlered, was sitting in the tall, green grass. He seemed content and unaware of anything but looking down the canyon. He must have been thinking about something though. Ten minutes later he stood up and lumbered toward the trees. A mom moose and two babies came out of the forest and followed him. It is funny that at home I should worry about my solitude because in that deep, green basin, I found that I was embarrassed to be the only one making a sound.

5 comments:

Sofia D. Hoiland said...

this is the most beautiful thing I have read all day. the deserts of utah are living proof of heavenly processes of evolution.

Krisanne said...

your writing is stunning. i'm sorry you don't know me...i am friends with Lia Farnsworth, and i found your blog through one of her links. thank you for your beautiful insights.

Lanette said...

I know it's been said, but this is beautiful! We really do live in such a beautiful, incredible, intricate world.

glarcy said...

Ashley! I can't believe I ran into your blog randomly. Your art looks great! I love what you are doing.

Until I see you next at Bath and Body works... Melissa

Geo said...

I like your thought about God leaving us lessons about our own youth and our place in a bigger existence.

I am leaving so many comments tonight that I am beginning to feel like a stalker, but really, I am loving your blog. Loving YOU.