Monthly Archives: December 2012

A last day at Antelope Island

31 Monday Dec 2012

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It’s the last day of 2012. There have been a lot of wrap up posts floating around and I kept thinking how I would wrap up this year. A year of pictures, showing one per month? A list of things I learned? A list of all the fantastic things I did? Others  have written eloquent posts going down memory lane. Me? I kept drafting one and then I felt like I was creating something akin to the ol’ Christmas Letter.

Today Steve and I visited Antelope Island. It’s the last day of the year and the last full day we have together before he heads back to Calgary tomorrow. For me, it’s the perfect wrap up of my year.

Antelope Island in Winter

Antelope Island in Winter

It was perfectly white. Perfectly peaceful and perfectly sums up how I feel about this year: A balance of harshness and beauty. Challenges and triumphs. But mostly, it’s where Steve and I go to escape the world and spend quality time together.

View the gallery by clicking on any one of the photos below.  They look yummier that way.

Winter Holiday at the Grand Canyon

27 Thursday Dec 2012

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Grand Canyon Rendezvous

I didn’t expect snow at the Grand Canyon. All I could remember from my first visit 30 years prior was the scorching Arizona heat of 103° F, and add about 10 degrees to that and you get what the temperature was in our non air conditioned family van. My brother, sister and I were passing ice cubes to each other—ice we grabbed from our Coleman water chest—and rubbing it on our faces and necks as my baby sister was bawling because she found the heat unbearable too. It was so damn hot. That’s what I remember from my first trip to the Grand Canyon.

But this time was different. It was my first Christmas with my boyfriend, Steve, who was visiting from Toronto. After our courtship blossomed in Scotland, then grew in England, Steve and I found ourselves in a long-distance romance that was taking us to the Grand Canyon in the winter.

We took our time driving the 500-mile journey from Salt Lake City, stopping in Las Vegas for a night and exploring sites like Utah’s Bonneville Salt Flats and Hoover Dam along the way.

We pass the Bonneville Salt Flats of Utah

The Bonneville Salt Flats of Utah (or what I like to refer to as the Devil’s Ice Skating Rink)

It’s a different road trip when it’s not over 100° F. There was no crying baby sister, no suffering in a van with my brother and sisters. Just a quiet ride with a fella I met nine months earlier. This time I could really pay attention to the landscape. And it helps when you’re traveling with a geologist. I learned more from Steve than I ever did in my college geology course. (Even more helpful is an instructor makes you swoon.)

Hoover Dam on the border of Nevada and Arizona

Hoover Dam on the border of Nevada and Arizona

As we approachedt the Grand Canyon it was dark and snowy and I couldn’t see a thing. I hate driving in the snow and so I pulled over and had Steve drive into the park.

Snow in Arizona. I couldn’t quite make sense of that. Arizona is supposed to be freaking hot, not wintry.

We stayed in the park at the Yavapai Lodge, which had painted cinder blocks for walls. resembling a college dormitory and a toilet that ran all night. The accommodations weren’t lush, but they were practical and we got a good night’s sleep. After a full hot breakfast in the cafeteria we made our way to the rim of the canyon. 100_0824Tourists filled the pathways near the edge, just like they did when I was nine, except people were in parkas, scarves and wool caps, not t-shirts and shorts.

Snow was falling and my fingers could barely stand the icy chill as I snapped photos with my little Kodak camera. This is not the same Grand Canyon I saw when I was nine.

I looked over the edge to look down in the canyon–the Grand Canyon–to see that it wasn’t the hot, scorching beast I remembered, but it looked like a grand dessert with layer upon layer of oranges and browns and golds with a dusting of powdered sugar on top. A geological Mille-feuille.

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A Grand Canyon Mille-feuille

I’m not a fan of winter or snow, which I know is weird because I live in Utah where most people really like the stuff. But to see snow blanketed over the Grand Canyon is a spectacular treat, which most people never get to see. So, you think you’ve seen the Grand Canyon? Sure, maybe you’ve seen it in summer when it’s blowing its hot breath at you, but try seeing it dressed with snow. It’s a much kinder and sweeter Grand Canyon. It will blow you a snowflake kiss.

Click on any photo below and it will enlarge and take you to a slide show. Much better way to view these.

A letter to Longfellow: I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

23 Sunday Dec 2012

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Dear Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

Henry W. Longfellow*

Henry W. Longfellow*

Sir, the pain you felt after your second wife Fanny died in that horrible fire is unimaginable. You raced to her side to help squelch the flames only to lose her later, and because you were injured yourself from the fire, you couldn’t even attend her funeral. Then add to that the pain you suffered from your son’s injury in the Civil War, it must have been unbearable. The sudden loss of family—especially when their time has not come—is the kind of grief no one should have to endure.

Since your passing, we’ve seen too many wars—two of them World Wars. We’ve had enemies attack us twice on our own soil with the last one being the destruction of two towers in New York City where nearly 3000 people died in a matter of a couple hours. And most recently there is deep heartache of parents who are laying to rest their little ones who were gunned down in their classroom. It all seems senseless to me. But I don’t know why any of it should make sense.

Grief often feels like the enemy. It comes in to attack us and take us hostage, and though I didn’t bury a child last week or lose a spouse or child at war, I have been walking around with a heart full of sadness and despair, wondering how I can exist in this world that is full of darkness. I felt much like you wrote in your poem Christmas Bells:

“And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men

So dear Sir, I was at church today. There were no bells—we don’t have bells at my church—but I did feel something from the Christmas music and the spirit of peace and love that was there. So even though there weren’t any bells, I could hear them in my mind. It was this:

“Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’ “

I really don’t know how the Right will prevail and I really don’t know how the Wrong shall fail. It seems like every day the Wrong prevails more and more. These moments that overwhelm us in the media try to crowd out any sliver of joy we might seek. Lives are destroyed, families are shattered, but I do have hope that misery and grief don’t have to paralyze us.

So this little note is just a thank you for writing your poem about hope. Because without hope, despair wins and so does Wrong. I am grateful for the bells of Christmas Day to help remind me that we can have peace on earth and good-will to men. My prayer is that those who are directly impacted personally by recent tragedies will find the bells comforting as well.

Kind regards,

Lisa

*The photo of Henry W. Longfellow is in the public domain. (The copyright has expired.)

The fear of scuba diving and why I do it

09 Sunday Dec 2012

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As I breathe through the regulator, I can’t help but think that if my line gets tangled or caught somehow, or even ruptures I will lose all oxygen and drown.  I will sink to the bottom of the ocean and die.  Maybe Steve will be able to rescue me, but what if he can’t? These are my thoughts, yet the bigger question is, “Why am I even doing this?”

scuba diving in Hawaii

scuba diving in Hawaii

Scuba diving. I never had an interest in it until I was dating Steve, and then, it wasn’t because I was interested in the sport as much as I wanted to impress Steve with my willingness to try something new.  For about a year here’s how the conversations would go:

Steve: “So, do you Scuba dive?”  Me: “Uh, no.”

That little exchange was repeated about four or five times until finally I answered, “No, but I could maybe look into taking lessons or getting certified or whatever.”

“You would?” he asked with excitement in his voice.

And I did. Turns out that even in Utah there was a dive shop three blocks from my home. So, twice a week for a few weeks I took the class, did the drills in the pool and then over a weekend I certified in Open Water Scuba Diving through PADI in a geothermal spring at a crater in Heber, Utah.

All that for love, my dear.

So, let’s make a list to see why I do this

For me, diving is one of the most paradoxical activities I enjoy, endure, do. It’s so conflicting for me that I found myself on dives wondering if I really want to be doing this. So I’ve made a list to figure out where I stand on this whole scuba diving thing.

  • It’s something my husband enjoys so I do it too. His immense curiosity about the world—both above water and below—has opened up my world in discovering and learning so much.
  • I love looking at the earth’s phenomenal underwater world. Did you realize there are really cool things down there in the ocean? Like freaking huge sea turtles, big ass groupers, schools of wildly colorful fish, sea horses, which always seemed mythical to me before I saw one for the first time, eels of all types and even iridescent squid.

    Giant Sea Turtle on the wreck dive we did in Maui

    Giant Sea Turtle on the wreck dive we did in Maui

  • Cool storytelling: We saw a 14 foot Tiger shark TWICE on our dive in Kona, Hawaii (cool story, but a little too terrifying for me. I sucked through my air pretty fast). We also did an amazing night dive with manta rays, which I count as one of the top five things I’ve ever done.
  • I love being on a boat. I don’t get sea sick and I love sitting in the sun with the wind blowing all that hair I have out of my face. Look how happy I am on this boat!

    On our dive boat in Belize

    On our dive boat in Belize

  • I’m still not very good at diving. My buoyancy sucks, I can never remember how to clear my mask and I’m always worried my regulator’s line will have a pin prick in it and I’ll drown.
  • Diving has taken us to some truly wonderful places. Since we’re also birders, we often combine diving trips with jungle birding adventures.
  • It is kind of cool to be able to tell people, “Yeah, I’m a diver.” But the wet suit and neoprene hat, I realize, don’t really make me look cool.  Or do they? Let’s say they do.

    On the dive boat in Kona, Hawaii

    On the dive boat in Kona, Hawaii

  • Diving constantly challenges my fears. Steve is more fearless than I. If I didn’t dive I’m actually convinced I would just stick to routine and become boring in my middle years.

Bottom line, I still like it

I do really like diving. I like that I learned how to do this in my forties and even though it took falling in love with a guy to nudge me to do this, it is one of those things in which I surprise myself. My first real dive (after certifying at the crater) was in Cozumel, Mexico on our honeymoon. Since then we’ve been diving in Belize, Honduras, Costa Maya (Mexico), Cozumel again, Panama and Hawaii (Kona and most recently Maui). The dive companies we go with are as varied as the people we meet on the boat. Some dive companies I like better than others, but overall, I’m glad I’m a diver and I’m motivated to get better at it so I’m not so scared.

But really, it’s not a bad thing to do something that scares you.

Scuba diving on our honeymoon in Cozumel

Scuba diving on our honeymoon in Cozumel