Saturday, October 3, 2015

I yell, you yell, we all yell for yell-ow

A couple Sundays ago Sam and I drove up Big Cottonwood Canyon and over Guardsman Pass into Midway. We've never been all the way up and over that way before, and it was so beautiful! We left the kids home this time, too, which is perhaps why it lingers in my memory as such a very peaceful afternoon. :)

You know me (or do you?)—I can't resist the gold-yellow of those aspen trees. It's my very favorite color in the world, even when that yellow is rushing by past my car window, a blur of glitter and sunshine (my desire to pull over and wander around and take photos often exceeds the driver's desire for slowing down and annoying other cars, or parking in precarious places to allow said wandering)—or maybe especially then. It feels like falling into a yellow lake.
 Mid-afternoon seems like the best time to get that strong tree-light. The sunlight through the leaves makes everything behind it more vibrant.
 And I'm always struck by how the contrast against the dark pines makes the yellows glow even brighter!
So much yellow! For some reason when I write that, I hear Ryan Williams singing "And it was all ye-ell-ooo-ooh" in a wavery falsetto. He used to drive Rachael and me home from school and we'd beg him to sing along to anything, anything on the radio. It brought us great joy.
One of my favorite places to be is behind a lattice of trees, looking through to the more distant colors beyond. It feels like being in a cathedral, watching the sun pour through the stained glass.
Or like being in a Japanese tea house, where the light becomes diffused and warm and golden as it passes through the rice-paper screens.
This little patch of trees spilled down the hillside, getting yellower as it fell. I couldn't quite see the bottom from this vantage point, but I imagined it being the brightest yellow of all, like all the color was slowly dripping down and pooling at the bottom in a puddle of gold.
 Another stained-glass-y vantage point.
Green soldiers. Gold soldiers.
Shadows, windows, light
The color spills down the hill here too, but here it got diluted and streaked through the greens like watercolor.
Such a bright little circle of trees! All alone there on the top of a hill.
The light comes through so strongly here, it makes even the leaf-shadows turn orange.
And just for variety, some red maples we saw driving down the other side. Gorgeous!

Sunday, Maple Canyon

We stopped to take some pictures during our Sunday drive the other day, because the light was so pretty. Daisy and Junie were wearing some of my favorites of their dresses. Cuties.
And Abe looks so handsome in his new Sunday suit!
Most of the leaves hadn't changed yet, but a few were starting to turn yellow

Wednesday, September 30, 2015


I really do love rainstorms so much. And so do these little capering goblins of mine. We didn't have any storms in August (that I can remember), so I was quite happy that September brought some! 

Also, I really can't resist baby people in rain boots.
Some sort of jumping contest was going on here
And some sort of running contest here.
Daisy's bright little eyes! She was so proud of herself for twirling the umbrella sideways.
Such lovely girls I have!
It was a very dramatic sort of day. Later that day we were playing on a playground with this striking scene in the background.
And still later, as the sun was going down, we saw this double rainbow from the back porch!

Labor Day Campfire

I always have very mixed feelings on Labor Day. It doesn't really make sense. I love fall, and it's not like winter is such a very large and terrible thing. It has Christmas! And hot chocolate. And snuggling. And it ends, it always ends, and there is spring again. But anyway, Labor Day means I have to face the fact that summer is over, and it feels like a time of thoughtfulness and drawing inward a bit for me, and reflecting on change and what it means.

And there's always our traditional Labor Day campfire (eeek, edible little Malachi in that link!!)! It seems like just barely that baby Junie was toddling around, and falling ofttimes into the fire, and oft into the water. Now that's Goldie's job.

Boys, sticks, fire. What could go wrong?

Girls on stump.
Girls in the cavities of a rock.
Goldie in the bear-chair

When we were in Montreal, our friend Thierry said he liked mayonnaise on his hot dogs. We tried it and it's great! And spinach makes every sandwich better. Also, we love the Costco hotdogs. Add chips and my Nana's baked beans and you have an ideal dinner. Yum!

Sam cooked perfect marshmallows/s'mores, as usual. There was something wondrous about the coals of this fire. They produced quick and even browning on every single marshmallow! We were marveling about it, and then someone stirred the coals and the magic was lost. Sad.
The most perfect marshmallows are not without their dark side, however. Even when they are simply regular-sized…they have the capacity for much evil.
Oh, sweet Marigold. The little lamb wants to come straight to me, of course. Drawn to me like a moth to a flame.
She is somewhat bewildered and not a little disturbed by the comprehensiveness of this mess. So am I, frankly. All part of the campfire experience!
Likewise, the sight of Sam warming a baby-bundle by the fire. I would like you to note Theo's bright little beady eyes peeking out from that blanket. Also Sam's solid stance and steely gaze. What a fine specimen of a man he is!
Theo quite agrees. He gazes at Sam adoringly in the firelight.
And so did the rest of us.
And that was Labor Day.