Friday, August 28, 2009

"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."


in Arizona, there seems to be a general habit for Arizonians to brag about Arizona sunsets. "we have the best sunsets," they say. "better than anywhere, hands down." this is an indisputable fact to my Arizonian friends - and there's no way that they were going to hear some Utah girl who has seen very little of the world contest this fact. but, when i got back to Salt Lake and i was driving downtown along Wasatch Road on the east bench, and the city, mountains, and setting sun were before me, i had to disagree that the best sunsets are in Arizona. the sunsets in Salt Lake are incredible. how come i didn't know that with such surety before? how come i could not give concrete testimony of the beauty of Utah sunsets? why is this not a Utah claim, like green jello, ice cream, and Jericho Road are? i determined that it isn't because Utah has sub-par sunsets that no one claims "best sunsets in the world." i think it's because we aren't looking up as often as our friends down south. i think that any "best of" claims are made because people pay attention. Arizonians love their sun, and they love their sunsets. but, at any rate, i think this extends to the idea that those who are looking for the good will find it. what are we Utahns looking for in our great environment? why are our heads not turned upwards so that we can claim with confidence that we have the best sunsets?

i think there are many "best____ in the world" claims to be made. but it requires paying attention. it makes me wonder where my attention priorities are - what am i seeking and what am i finding, and where are my eyes looking? for, as i found, you can't make the claim that, "no, MY state has the best sunsets" if you never even bothered to look up.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

i'll return to you somehow

In the quiet misty morning when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing and the sky is clear and red.
When the summer’s ceased its gleaming,
When the corn is past its prime,
When adventure’s lost its meaning,
I’ll be homeward bound in time.

Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow.
Set me free to find my calling and I’ll return to you somehow.

If you find it’s me you're missing, if you’re hoping I’ll return.
To your thoughts I’ll soon be list’ning, and in the road I’ll stop and turn.
Then the wind will set me racing as my journey nears its end.
And the path I’ll be retracing when I’m homeward bound again.

Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow.
Set me free to find my calling and I’ll return to you somehow.

In the quiet misty morning when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing,
I’ll be homeward bound again.

-Music and Lyrics by Marta Keen