The Cutting Edge:

So over the weekend my coworker got a hair cut. From the front it looked really cute. I complimented her, and she gave me a rather flat look in response. Upon probing as to the reason for her obvious annoyance with her hair I discovered that what looked nice from the front was, well, not-so-hot in back. Kind of like a mullet, only the back wasn't no party! Poor thing. Whoever cut her hair had cut a wedge out of it at the nape of her neck. Unfortunately her hair is short enough that to properly fix her hair requires growing it out for a bit, but I told her that I could at least help to even out the area so it wasn't such a blatant mistake. 

Hope began to shine in her eyes... and I pulled out a pair of scissors to restyle the back of her hair. And in case you were asking yourself, "Wait, you're at an office; were you using paper scissors to cut her hair?" the answer is yes. *Shrug* I do what I can! There are two other girls in that office, and they offered their input as to how best fix her hair. Just as I was proceeding to snip away, the president of our company walked in the room. Great. He stopped, looked a little confused, asked if I was using paper scissors, shook his head, and walked out laughing. Well, Frank was the first of many who came in and laughed in the two minute time frame that it took to remedy my coworker's poor hair problem. It was certainly an interesting couple of minutes! 

Ever since, I have had the funniest desire to watch Edward Scissors Hands...

Light

Yesterday morning when I woke up I took a few minutes to just sit and look out my window. I was looking specifically at this one tree across the street from my apartment complex; it is a huge tree with broad foliage. At this point in the year the leaves are a mixture of yellows and browns. The lighting when I first started studying this tree lacked impressionability. Then I noticed something wonderful was happening: the sun started to crest the mountains; as the sun rose higher the leaves started to ignite with light starting from the outer edges and slowly creeping to fill each leaf. This tree, which only moments before had been rather lackluster, now was stunningly beautiful glittering in the early morning's light.

As I watched this process occur I began to ponder on the application of this scene to my life. People are much like this tree: we are creations of God, indeed we are His children. As such we have an inherent beauty and divinity in our physical form. However, like this tree, when we are filled with light we become immeasurably more beautiful. Literally, the Holy Ghost enhances everything about us:

"The gift of the Holy Ghost...quickens all the intellectual faculties, increases, enlarges, expands and purifies all the natural passions and affections; and adapts them, by the gift of wisdom, to their lawful use. It inspires, develops, cultivates and matures all the fine-toned sympathies, joys,  tastes, kindred feelings, and affections of our nature. It inspires virtue, kindness, goodness, tenderness, gentleness, and charity. It develops beauty of person, form and features. It tends to health, vigor, animation, and social feeling. It invigorates all the faculties of the physical and intellectual man. It strengthens, and gives tones to the nerves. In short, it is, as it were, marrow to the bone, joy to the heart, light to the eyes, music to the ears, and life to the whole being" (Key to the Science of Theology, 9th ed. [1965], 101).

Watching this tree was a poetically beautiful reminder that we are children of light; that "trailing clouds of glory do we come from God, who is our Home" (William Wordsworth, Ode: Imitations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (1884), 23-24). 

"Fall is the year's last, loveliest smile:"

I love the changing seasons! For the first fifteen years of my life I lived in Houston, Texas. There we experienced few definitive seasonal changes; mostly it was just hot. Really hot. Then, for a time it would drop and get chilly. I don't remember splendid fall colors, nor do I recall prolonged, chipper spring times. Those two seasons were always short-lived and lackluster. And snow? Forget it. We had some pretty epic ice storms, but that was the closest thing I ever really experienced to snow. But then we moved to Colorado...and everything changed! Seasons became more substantial, and were distinctively differentiated from each other. And I fell in love.

Over the years I have come to appreciate more and more the changes in the seasons. Their opposing natures bring out the beauties of each in their turn. Each season carries with it a special spirit:

Spring brings a wealth of hope, and the whole world seems to be chipper, vibrant, AWAKE, and just young and fresh! This opening season carries with it the renewal and strength of awakening from a deep and rejuvenating sleep. Spring is hopeful in a way that no other season can claim.

Summer matures a little. It is warm, inviting and fun. Yet with that you also have to endure the heat of the summer; there are trials, hardships, sweat and work. The innocence and vibrancy of Spring weary under the toil and dust of summer. But Summer fortifies and strengthens the early and rapid growth of Spring. The Summer is refining in a way that no other season can claim.

That growing maturity deepens with the coming of fall. Fall seems to hold a spirit of wisdom and understanding. The world sobers as it starts to resign itself to falling asleep for a season, but it knows it's not quite finished. Fall brings forth a glory of color and beauty that is brief, but stunning and wonderful. Such is the beauty of one that is refined by trials well met and overcome. Fall is peaceful in a way that no other season can claim.

And then follows Winter. A time when the world is allowed to rest and sleep for a time. This is a season for regaining strength, a season to simply BE. It is a quiet time; a time to just be still and ponder and reflect and prepare for a new bout of life. Winter is still and pensive in a way that no other season can claim.

I didn't always see the beauty to winter or summer; I just felt the intense heat and bitter cold. But I have come to value those times, now. Those seasons help me see greater beauty in both spring and fall.

All summer I have been trying to go hike up the canyon to Cascade Saddle. It's a twelve mile hike, and most people were daunted by that number and refused to accompany me on a grand adventure. Fortunately I have a mother who is a kindred spirit, and I knew she would indulge in an adventure! So finally we found a Saturday when we both had time, we packed some sustenance and a camera and sallied forth! Dad was able to come part way with us, but had to return early. Mom and I pressed on! I'm so glad that I was denied the pleasure of this hike earlier in the year, because when we finally were able to go the world was radiantly smiling, "the year's last, loveliest smile" (William C Bryant). As Anne of Avonlea said, "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers!"

My wonderful parents, and a couple of my best friends! 

We started hiking early, so literally every minute the light would change; the colors were so vibrant and constantly deepening or catching glimmers of light differently. It was pretty magical. 

Sorry about the weird glare spot...but still, I love this photo. It was awesome to hike up out of the trees and get to the point where we were higher, looking back down on the valley we had just traversed. 

The path was totally covered in leaves almost the whole way. At one point the wind really came down through the canyon, and mom and I just stopped in wonder: we were being rained upon by gorgeous leaves. It honestly looked like beautiful, yellow, glittering rain. The sound was just as stunning as the visual. 

So many colors; photos just don't do that day justice! 

So glad we went on this fantastic fall adventure! Being out in God's beautiful world is so cathartic. In the scriptures we often read about Prophets ascending up into the Mountain of the Lord. Days like this day, hiking in that splendor, away from the noise and chaos of the "world," I really feel the analogy of the Mountain's being symbolic of the temple of the Lord- places of peace, of healing, of sanctification. I'm grateful for such holy places. I'm grateful to live in a world of changing seasons. 

  

A Beginning:

In the words of the Joker: "and here...we...GO!"

I've been contemplating starting a blog for a while now, and something inside me finally snapped; so here I sit, starting out on a new venture. I can't promise that this will be particularly fascinating to anyone, but I hope that in writing out some of my own random musings those who care may gain greater insight to who I am and what I'm all about.