Today I did something special. I played business golf in Midway, Utah at
Crater Springs golf course which is part of the Homestead Resort. The golf was fun and company was pleasant,
but that it is not the special thing.
After golf I decided to take a different route home. Instead taking Highway US 40 to I-80, I decided to drive down Provo Canyon. The road is adjacent to the beautiful Provo
River. One of the nation’s most
treasured fly fishing streams.
Fifteen miles or so down the Provo Road from Heber is the turn off for Sundance Ski Resort and the Alpine Loop. I love the Alpine Loop. Usually when I take the Alpine Loop I go from north to south but today I drove south to north. Usually when I take the drive, I have a companion with me. But today I drove alone. Since it was a Thursday, there were few cars on the narrow loop road. I drove slowly, looking at mountains, looking at trees turning from summer green to the warm colors of autumn. Oranges, reds and yellows. The green of evergreens interspersed among the aspens. I stopped from time to time to get out of my car to take a photo of the mountains, including the backside of Mt. Timpanogos, the trees and the small mountain streams. I have taken this road many times but not for four or five years.
Today on an autumn afternoon it was indeed special to take a
solo drive through this beautiful country.
As I drove, I felt a spiritual connection to the land, my heart seemed
full. I thought about my life, my son
Alex, my ailing parents and my dear wife, the Lovely Sharon. I thought about things I am proud of and I
thought about my mistakes and shortcomings. For me autumn has always been a
time of reflection and today was no different. I feel blessed to have the
family and wife that I have. I feel undeserving to have the Lovely Sharon as my
wife.
I thought about turning 60 in a month. Such an unbelievable
number, 60. Six decades on this earth.
Heading into my seventh decade. I cannot believe I am that old. As I drove I looked at my hands on the steering
wheel. My hands looked old, a couple of
old man brown spots on my right hand.
Whose hands were these holding my steering wheel? They couldn’t be mine
could they?
When I finally arrived home, the Lovely Sharon was not
home. I headed down to the Bud Cave, sat
in my old leather chair. I picked up the
novel I am reading and read for a few minutes when I heard the alarm system
beep which indicates someone entered the house.
The Lovely Sharon was now home. She
descended the stairs and walked into the Bud Cave. Boy was I glad to see her.
(I did not take the photos included in this blog entry)
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