Someone knows

I had been asked to teach a photo class to a group of women who had one thing in common: they had all lost a child to cancer. I wasn't sure what to say, how to teach without offending, how to inspire without making it hurt more.

One day last week, I was catching up on my usual magazines as I did my usual workout. An article in a photography magazine jumped out at me. It had all the answers. It was written by a woman who had experienced a traumatic year. During the year, she used photography to bring her out of her sorrows by looking for things of interest or beauty.

I shared it with the women at the end of my presentation last night. After I talked a little about cameras and a little about light exposure and a little about composition, I read them parts of the article about turning tough times to good ones by redirecting your thoughts and your actions.

And then I told them an even more important thing: that I knew that someone led me to the article so I could take it to them. I believe their Heavenly Father knows their need and is working every possible way to help them.

For them, for all of us, that is the lesson with the most value.

The best kind of gift

I had a few minutes before I needed to head into the canyon and drive the last 20 miles to Logan for a family gathering. I had started the trip at the conclusion of a meeting I was covering in Farmington.

I decided to take those few extra minutes to drive over to the newly dedicated Brigham City Temple.

That the few minutes I had happened to coincide with the sunset sky you see here was not something I had planned or could control. It was a gift. The best kind of gift. 

Look closely

At first I watched the turtles.

When breakfasting on a lanai overlooking the rugged Kona coastline, turtle watching is a natural pasttime.

But then I started watching people.

It's ever so irresistable.

I was waiting for them to notice the turtles, because as soon as they did, I knew they'd call their kids or husband or friends over to see them too. They'd bring out their cameras and get as close as they could for as long as they could manage, and try and get a picture of a head bobbing up or a flipper waving out. I knew they'd do that because I'd seen it done. And because I'd done it.

But they didn't notice. They saw the waves. They saw the crabs. They headed back to the pool. They didn't stay long enough to see the turtles.

You have to look hard enough. You have to sit long enough. You have to be still enough.

I'm not judging. Every other minute of my life when I'm not on vacation I'm moving too fast to notice things. I wonder what else I've missed. I wonder when next I can sit down and just watch.

Scrappy little wildflowers

Nobody planted them. Nobody said, here's a nice spot of ground for you to grow and we'll come water you to make life easier. These scrappy little wildflowers just wanted to grow and so they found a place for themselves and did. And not only did they grow, they blossomed. And now the world -- even just this little part of the world that is a road -- is a better place.

Afternoon with a Senator

He spoke of heads of state and powers of Congress and problems in campaigns and working with Democrats and negotiating for Hill Air Force Base and e-mailing Romney and the finance committee and deficits and what happened in '96 and the importance of the next debate.
And I was impressed.

Is this awesome or what?

We got a little taste of New York City life last weekend. How 'bout this view from the roof-top balcony? And then there are plays and biking in Central Park and eating desserts that melt in your mouth and soul food. And concerts in Central Park with 60,000 of your fellow fans.

Nice to know an insider! Thanks, Stace!!

Close to home

We've hiked in far-away places over the past year, but just last week found a pretty little (intense) hike just five miles from home. You look at them all the time, but to be in them is to be surrounded by lots of beautiful surprises. Yeah for  mountains!