You'll just have to take my word for it.

Today, which was all hurry hurry because tomorrow it's off to Chicago, I ended my last class, finished creating the last discussion thread for it, sent the last student e-mail, and hightailed it out of the building lickety split so that I could race down to Orem and catch the second half of my son's soccer game. [Insert mental picture of lanky kid playing on the left wing, making a perfect cross to put the ball right in front of the goal where one of the other players fails to score.] Because of the spring snowfall, today was utterly clear, the mountains on both sides of the valley etched out of snow and air. At least that's how it seemed.

There's a point on the way south when you can see Timpanogos sort of peeking between two nearer mountains. I was driving along in the Chev, not minding the little shake it gets when I hit sixty-ish, not minding how incredibly tired I was from a night of not sleeping and coughing, not minding any of it. I felt I was just sailing from gorgeous vista to even more gorgeous vista. This is Utah, my friends. I remember the exact moment, twenty years ago or more, when Utah started seeming like home to me--after a long visit to my family in L.A., which used to seem like home, with the kids in the VW bus (an old one--), windows down, music blowing. On days like today, it doesn't seem like there could ever be a more beautiful place. As beautiful, maybe, but not more.

So I got to the 8th North exit, which wasn't the right exit--Center St., I thought. (Orem-ites, I know you know I've made a mistake here, but just shut up and let me finish my story.) So I wended my way around the unbelievably crass streets of Orem, which never met a city planner, evidently, south to Center St. and over to the high school. Which, as it turned out, was Mountain View High School. Fine, except I was supposed to be going to Timp View. Lots of views in Orem. What the hell. Of course, I have no idea where Timp View actually is, despite plenty of years spent in the Provo-Orem area. I sighed, did a little lite swearing, got a Coke and started home.

That entailed traveling west on Center Street to hook up at the freeway. Dear reader, the surface of Utah Lake stretched out before me shone like something really shiny and extra silvery. All afternoon, after the no-sleep night and the hurry up day, Utah handed me one vision after another, and for no good reason except that the world felt like gleaming.

I shot a couple of pictures from my car while I was driving, but they were predictably inadequate. (Note to self: don't take pictures while driving at freeway speeds at rush hour. It's not safe.)