Refuge
Mt. Timpanogos will always have a special place in my heart. MY mountain. She was the first thing I saw when I stepped outside my sister's little apartment in Provo. My first connection with Utah. The first indication I might finally be safe, having fled for my life, cross-country from Florida to Utah, to escape my first husband.
The mountain is always there. Storms blow across her face, fire scars her canyons, ice and snow freeze her surface, animals and birds make their homes in the trees that grow on her slopes, wildflowers and autumn leaves take it in turns to paint her face with vibrant colour. But those things are not the mountain. She stands apart.
Serene. Eternal. Magnificent.
The mountain is always there. Storms blow across her face, fire scars her canyons, ice and snow freeze her surface, animals and birds make their homes in the trees that grow on her slopes, wildflowers and autumn leaves take it in turns to paint her face with vibrant colour. But those things are not the mountain. She stands apart.
Serene. Eternal. Magnificent.