Our New Front Yard

Ok family. Join me on a tour of a part of our new front yard. This is the upper portion of Neff's Canyon, the upper two miles of the trail that starts about four blocks from our new home.

Last week I climbed up Neffs Canyon and didn't have a camera. I am no photographer, nothing like you are, but there is so much beauty that I had to come back today and bring a camera. There are places along the trail that remind me of each of you. That is what I wish to share.

These first three photos are about 1 1/2 miles up the trail, right where it starts to get really steep, and incidentally, right where it starts to get really beautiful.

These three photos make me think of Dane. The stream really doesn't appear very often in the canyon, it is mostly underground, but when it does appear it is wild and rushing. The trail only crosses the stream one time at this time of year. I thought this place should be called Dane's Crossing.

About two miles up the canyon opens up to its first Alpine Meadow. Here is the view from the edge of that meadow looking down to the Salt Lake Valley.

If you turn around the other way, and face East, this is the view you get. The sun had just come up and I thought of James and Wynn. After the long ascent, it was so nice to rest. I thought of how easy James and Wynn are to get along with, how peaceful their company is. This had to be James and Wynn's Meadow.

If you turn a little further, toward the north, you can see the rock face that borders the meadow. Over the top of those cliffs is East Millcreek Canyon. But who needs another canyon when you have so much beauty right at your fingertips.

After about a ten minute climb there a place where you can get a view that captures James and Wynn's Meadow. Here the shadow is just creeping up the mountain as the sun rises. How like their life, as the new directions they are going start to be revealed.

Another ten minutes of climbing reveals a new meadow. This one has more trees in it and the rock surrounding it is aggressive. I thought here of Mark and Libby, of their love for adventure. I called this Mark and Libby's Meadow.

The first photo of Mark and Libby's Meadow is the Northern view. This second picture is of the Southern View. The rocks really look more orange than this photo shows as the early morning sun was bleaching the color out of them. Mark, with this photography skills, would be better able to capture the true colors, and the true beauty of this place.

The trail kept climbing up and as the meadow melts into the forest I caught a glimpse back from the trees toward Mark and Libby's Meadow. The shadows were playing tag with the light and I caught this moment when the shadows were "it".

I am jumping ahead here to a higher meadow, about three and a half miles up from the trailhead. This meadow is just under the end of the trail and is very steep. But it is covered with flowers of all kinds. It made me think of Ben and Emy and their life with Clara. Nothing keeps you working like children, but nothing is as rewarding. This is Ben and Emy's Meadow.

Here is another view, looking down. It is hard to grasp the slope from this picture. But it is steep. My heart rate through here was north of 150 beats per minute coming up.

Here is the crest of Ben and Emy's Meadow. You can see the curve of the mountain as it kind of slips down and starts getting steep. It is a little like a bar of soap that you drop in the tub. When it first hits the edge, it kind of teeters for a second, then it slips down the side and just zooms to the drain. Only this bathtub is filled with the most remarkable flowers and the soap gets to choose how fast it goes down the side.

I have to go back down the trail a bit here. This is a section of trail, very typical at the higher elevations. This was just prior to James and Wynn's Meadow.

I tried to capture the flora but I am not sure how to take closeups. But I hope the fuzzy focus on this pictures doesn't distract from the absolutely brillant Alpine Flowers. I think this one is called an Elephants head. Last week they were everywhere. Today I only saw two of them.

Here are some Christmas berries in August. These just call out to be eaten but I don't know what they are and wasn't about to do an experiment!

Some pale blue cocklebells.

Mountain Clover with a buzzing bee. There were many plats of clover and each one was filled with the droning of bees, busily scraping together the last scraps of pollen before the summer ends.

Some darker blue cocklebells, at least that is what I call them. I wish I was a better picture taker and could convey how bright these were against the green in the little glen where I found them.

These little daisies were everywhere at the higher elevations.

Their cousins, the yellow daisies, were much more common at the lower elevations.

Some more clover, this time purple. Many of the meadows were just covered in clover and had a symphony of bees to accompany the visual art.

Here is a bright red flower, made just for hummingbirds. I only saw a couple of these flowers on the entire trail. But when I did see them, they always caused me to stop and admire. How gracious God is to give us such loveliness to nourish our souls.

A mountain bouquet. Here the daisies have a slight bluish or purple cast to them.

And of course, the Indian Paint Brush. These ones are a little pink, others are more red. I only saw them at the higher levels, about 8,000 feet and up.

Right before Emy and Ben's Meadow is a spring with the most clear and refreshing water you can imagine. It is so cold that you can only drink a little bit at a time. Of course I had to name it Mom's spring. She always nourishes the thirsty traveler amongst us.

A little beyond this, maybe two hundred yards, is a little glen that I didn't take a picture of. I didn't want to name it after Andi, although I thought of her. But anything named after Andi would be Ben and Emy's to name. It is a tiny little glen, maybe twenty five yards by seventy five yards, and it is full of grasses and bushes about four to five feet high. Perfect for playing hide and seek with children under four feet tall. I thought of playing such a game with Andi, of running through those bushes with my hands out brushing the tops of the plants as I raced to hide while the numbers ascended to ten or twenty. I imagined Andi squatting next to a cool bush, squeezing her eyes shut, thinking that if she can't see anyone then no one can find her. Someday Andi and I will play hide and seek together. And she will always find me and I will always have to call out to her to reveal herself after my artless clumping past her hiding place. And if we get a chance to choose anywhere on earth to play this game, then I know where I would choose.

After almost four miles the trail ends at a saddle. This is the view back towards the valley, to the Northwest.

I arrived at the saddle with the sun. Here it is just peeking out to start the day, looking from the saddle to the East.

This is the Western ridge from the saddle. Up over the top of that ridge live the mountain goats. They scamper over the rocks with nonchalance and regard me as a poorly equipped intruder who won't be around for long. They are right. I am an intruder, a visitor in God's alpine museum.

The saddle ridge rises on the opposite side to the East. The trail doesn't go far. I followed it about thirty yards to the top of this knoll.

The choices on the saddle, the four directions, the trails meandering out, made me think of Mom and I. We too are at a place of change. I called it Grandma and Grandpa's saddle.

At the top of knoll a fallen log provides the perfect bench for sitting and thinking, maybe for saying a prayer. Perhaps Moses found a place like this to think at before he saw his burning bush. I though this might be called the Cannon Bench. Not because of any great revelation given. That kind of gift only comes to few. But this place is a symbol of the yearning to commune that we all feel. Sometimes that yearning is almost more than we can bear, and when that happens, I hope we all can find a Cannon bench to sit or kneel at.

Here is the view of the valley from the bench.

Here is the view from the bench to the south into Little Cottonwood Canyon. This would be one tough ascent from that side. I would not like to start rolling down the hill here. It might be a very long time before the rolling stopped.

So there you have a quick tour of one of the lovelier parts of our new front yard. I hope you all get a chance to see it for yourself. I am sure it's beauty is even deeper when you see it with those you love. Someday, perhaps we can have three generations take the tour together. Until then I am only grateful to be able to see Neff's Canyon from our kitchen window. We are blessed.

Love, Dad