Skip to main content

A Place to Contemplate

Grafton, Utah ... a Ghost Town 
When was the last time you took time out of your day to sit on a bench  or curl up in your favorite chair to just think?  Having, or ... taking time to contemplate may seem like such a luxury in the midst of our chaotic lives.

When visiting Zion National Park, we wandered to the little ghost town of Grafton.  In 1930 it had a booming population of 23.  A few lovely, old and well preserved buildings still exist.  The community was established to grow cotton in the fertile soil along the Virgin River.    

I'd like to think this bench was used by some woman who just needed to sit and enjoy a few moments to herself.  She might have had a sketch book in hand, a well read Bible or she just wanted to breath in nourishment for her soul.  What this photo doesn't show is the view beyond.

Having been there, I know what the view is.  There is a beautiful sweeping valley, with now uncultivated fields and rugged mountains in the distance.  One of my Grandma's favorite verses is taken from Psalm 121.  It says in part, "I look up to the mountains; does my strength come from the mountains?  No, my strength comes from God, who made heaven, and earth, and mountains."  A question to contemplate:  What are you seeing ... are you looking out?  

Reflect, ponder, contemplate ...  see the view that is beyond ~ Missy

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

the lights just clicked on

The lights just clicked on. The ones we hung outside last Friday when the day was bright and fair. Today it’s cloudy and cold. It’s dark earlier. So, the lights just clicked on.

It’s pretty. If I squint, the white fairy lights look like tiny gleaming stars. Bordering on gazing at an inky sky, dotted and specked with minute bursts of light.

Two Moravian stars with multi-faceted points hang. They sway with the breeze. Moving to the wind’s breathed music. They reflect in the open window; mirror images, star duets.

Santa arrives in a helicopter descent at the Old Mill. He sets up shop, elves and reindeer to join later. High fives, and shy giggles, the kids approach. Innocent, bright eyes wide open and hopeful.

It’s a magical and expectant season. It’s Advent.

Advent – the arrival of the awaited One – is more than my lights clicking on, the Moravian stars dancing and my grandkids’ wonder at the arrival of Santa. I love each of these experiences and the specialness of the memories.

A baby sh…

wild world: facing the wind

The page furled in the wind, several, actually as I struggled to control my notebook. The wind was crisp; it blew hair out of my face. A cerulean sky hung over head; the sun casting low.

I watered my potted plants, perhaps for the last time until spring. Snow’s in the 10 day forecast, which seems odd since only a few days ago it was 70 degrees.

Birds were chirping, squirrels doing their thing. They know the season is changing to the dormant time where food will be scarce and only the flimsy bare branches will shelter.

It’s November. We’re on the cusp of winter. Temperatures will be harsh. My thoughts turn to the outside folks; those who live in tents or boxes, occasionally scoring a room at the local shelter. It’s easier…when the weather is fair, but never easy.

Cat Stevens’ “Wild World” blares rather loudly from my Sonos. Two lines rattle for attention:

a lot of nice things turn bad out there you know I’ve seen a lot of what the world can do

Things are wild out there – the wind messi…

tradition or rhythm and christmas walks

How long does it take to make a tradition? Is there some sort of parameter, or is it something that just comes to be? By definition, a tradition is something passed down from generation to generation, but how are new ones established? I mean, they have to have a beginning.

That little diatribe to say, my cute man and I have a new Christmas morning rhythm, since tradition might be too strong of a word.



After coffee, breakfast and the Christmas story, we donned our hikers and headed out to walk the trail at Shevlin Park. Others had the same idea as we met families large and small; folks out for a run both with and without furry friends in tow. The mood was congenial with Holiday greetings. I made it my mission to say “Merry Christmas” to everyone we met.

The day was stellar, cold, crisp air, ice crystals sparkling in the late morning sunshine.



The beginning of the trail is enclosed in bare-branched trees that only a couple months ago were ensconced in iridescent golden coins that quaked …