Weather Vain?

Summer’s melting mountain ice-cream.

Weather Vain?

“It’s been perfect!”

“That’s exactly what the hydrologist said!” Jim replied.

Jim Palmer and I were sitting at a table having a little personal celebration of life.  It was lunch at one of our favorite restaurants near the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon.  Our view, through floor to ceiling windows, was one of a raging Big Cottonwood Creek.

We were watching water that had begun its flow high in the Wasatch Mountains just about nineteen miles east from where we were sitting.  From its source, to its natural outlet into the Jordan River, it will have traveled twenty-six falling, curving and cutting miles.

“The water will crest sometime between three and four a.m. tomorrow morning.”  Jim continued.

“Really?”  I said in surprise.

“Yes.  The peak snow melt occurs during the warmth of the afternoon and it takes the water about that long to reach the valley.”  Jim explained.

I had been marveling at the perfect water year while sitting with Jim, staring at the magnificent, dancing water.  That vision and those thoughts were what led me to describe our winter and spring weather pattern as “perfect.”  I didn’t know, at the time, that Jim had recently attended a water planning meeting, as a Salt Lake County Planning Commissioner, where they had been briefed about the likelihood of potential flooding due to warming temperatures which had begun a higher velocity of melting the vast high elevation snow pack.

“We’ve had cooler spring temperatures than normal, right along with the higher than normal snow pack.  That allowed the low and mid-level snow pack to percolate into the drought starved ground until it was saturated.  And, that has allowed the higher elevation snow pack to melt and then run over saturated ground into accommodating rivers and streams.  It didn’t all come down at once!”

“It’s been perfect!”  I marveled as he spoke.

“That’s exactly what the hydrologist said!” Jim replied.

The creek below us prompted my mind to consider additional descriptions of its function.  At this moment it was acting as a sort of weather vane, a visual demonstration of our current weather.  It was also acting as another type of vein, a channel transporting water from Wasatch Mountain peaks trough Big Cottonwood Creek, to the Jordan River and on to the Great Salt Lake. Finally, I thought of how it was also potentially a symbol of human vanity.

How many of us had been tuned in to the miracle Jim and I had been discussing during our personal celebration of life.  Have we become to vain as to no longer see and cherish the importance and wonder of how our weather has given us such a marvelous gift to end the drought?

Have we become weather vain?

Our Lost Longhorn

“I don’t know what I’d have done without you!” – Susan McDonald

Our Longhorn Lost!

“It is so nice to look around the room and see so many familiar faces that have been here since the beginning!”  Walt Hesleph said quietly to me as we stood in Jay and Donetta Anderson’s kitchen.

Walt was right!  It was good.  And, it was sad at the same time.

“There is something fulfilling about it.”  I replied, while continuing.  “We’ve all sort of grown up, grown old together!  And, we hardly see each other since our kids have grown and gone.”

Many of us in the room all built our homes about the same time.  It was when our houses were new and our children were young.  My heart filled with memories as I looked into those faces swimming around Walt and me.

When I greeted Lynn and Mickey Falkner my mind faded back to one of the first times I met them.  We were visiting them at their place, when one of their large multi colored roosters jumped as high as my daughters Jessi and Kilee were tall, scaring the two small girls, who ran away as fast as they could, to the protection of the Falkner’s huge St. Bernard.  It was something no one in my family has ever forgotten.

“I’m sure we can all remember some of Mike’s little sayings?”  Donetta said as we gathered around to hear her speak.

“Our lost Longhorn!”  Were the words that raced through my mind as she was speaking.

Mike McDonald came into our lives from Texas and he stayed here, came home here, and became a part of our neighborhood family, almost right up to the time he left us.  We were gathered at the Andersons to remember him.  To celebrate his life.  And, to show our united love and support for Susan, his wife.

As I stood next to Susan, I remember her once telling me that she thought Mike had seen every Texas, Longhorn football game ever played, more than once!  He was at home with us and forever a Longhorn fan.  He never forgot his roots.  We loved him for that and everything else he brought into our lives.  Now, Susan was whispering something more to me.

“I don’t know what I’d have done without you!”  She said.

“I don’t know what we would have ever done without you and Mike!”  Was my answer back to her, as my eyes moved from hers in a motion to gather everyone in the room as one.

Walt was exactly right! It was so nice to look around the room and see so many familiar faces that have been here since the beginning, I mused quietly to myself as we all stood in Jay and Donetta’s kitchen.

It was good.  And, it was sad.  Sad because we lost our beloved Longhorn!  Good, because he added so much to our little community.  We would have been incomplete without him.  Happily, we’ll never forget him, we still have Susan and we still have each other.

Go Longhorns!

Play-it-Agains

A reoccurring sight.

Play-it-Agains

It was early morning, so I was following my routine of exercise and preparation for the coming day.  Harry Pupper and I followed our well-worn path east, up our street and then west down our street, back to our home.  Just like always, Harry began to run through the house as soon as I opened the door.  “I call it his Triumphant Return Tour.”  I, however, was running slightly ahead of the clock, so I sat in my living room to admire the warm morning light across the fields and mountains.

As I gazed to the north, a large Black Angus Heifer walked from east to west across my view until she was rapidly out of my sight.  I looked down for a quick moment.  Then I looked out again to the same spot.  A large Black Angus Heifer walked from east to west across my view until she was rapidly out of my sight, again!  I looked down for another quick moment.  Then, I looked out across the field to the north and Once again, a large Black Heifer walked from east to west across my view until she was rapidly out of my sight!  The repetition was eerie to say the least.

I’ve seen such instances of “digital loops” portrayed in a few science fiction movies in my time, so I began to wonder if this was the proof that you and I are living a simulated life on some computer I’d been hoping never to discover!  Rather than jump to that conclusion immediately I decided that I’d better spend a little more time looking to see what I could discover with my own eyes through additional observation.

I looked at the same spot through my window again just to see what I could see.  And, sure enough a string of Black Angus Heifers marched across my screen from the east to the west.  So, I rightly concluded that the three prior visions were leaders, blazing the trail for the rest of the herd.  This discovery was both comforting as well as a little disappointing.

It was a little disappointing, because I had not discovered some hidden truth, revealing that we are nothing more than a computerized digitalization, a simulation.  Yet, it was comforting, because I had merely observed cows trampling down a cow trail.  Still, could there be some other discovery to be made here?

Do you and I sometimes get caught in our own thought-loop without ever really knowing it?  Have we ever fallen into some living patterns that cause us to reach some unfounded conclusions?

All of these questions and It was still early in the morning!  I was following my routine of exercise and preparation for the coming day.  Harry Pupper and I had followed our well-worn path east, up our street and then west down our street back to our home.  Just like always, Harry completed his Triumphant Return Tour through the house as soon as I opened the door.   I, however, was running slightly ahead of the clock, so I sat in my living room to admire the warm morning light across the fields and mountains while I asked myself some important questions.

I gazed to the north.  A large Black Angus Heifer walked from east to west across my view until she was rapidly out of my sight.  This sight repeated itself two more times, yet there was no digital conspiracy here.  Still, I was left wondering about my own habits, “play-it-agains.”

I have some good habits and some not-so-good, play-it-agains.  I’m going to spend some thoughtful time thinking about both, before I let them run like a herd of Black Angus Heifers trampling through of every aspect of my life, making it merely a simulation, without thought.