A deep Utah Valley

This was a poem my 14 year old wrote on the road trip to Washington in late October as we passed through a breath-taking Utah valley.

A Deep Utah Valley

I peek out the car window hoping to get a mental escape from the sibling souls crowded around me.  My mind’s eye is instantly painted with the fiery rolling hills of Utah. Hills quickly transform to tall snow covered peeks. We rush into the golden, green and grey of a Utah valley. Little creeks paint stripes in the browning grass and carve shapes into the maple syrup trees, which cover the flatness between the infinitely upward rocks. Rocks colored purple by the overcast sky and a light fog. Generations upon generations of trees and rock happily flowing into on another like the v in a river. Again the landscape changes to the sun reflecting water of a vast lake gently kissing a wall of mountains on the other side. A single lone sail boat drifts in a fall breeze. Softly, gently we will move into another landscape that will grasp our minds like a mother holds her child’s hand.