I miss the West.

I lived in Utah for over 10 years, and it's where my soul is at peace.

I recently went to the movie theater and watched a popular western movie, and it was a visceral experience for me. The wide lens opened up a space in me that has lain empty since I left.

I could smell the sagebrush. I closed my eyes and felt the dry heat on my face, arms. I lingered in the memories of clear bright sunny days - that sepia filtered brightness born of the high desert.

When I go to my happy place, the Wasatch Front is the backdrop.

Walking along the Ogden river. Driving the canyon. Cruising the 'Vard, with ridiculously beautiful Mount Ben Lomond smiling in the distance.

The summer shedding of the Cottonwood, with the fluffs of white floating past the budding rose bushes.

The fickle weather that can change by 50 degrees in a matter of hours. 

Oh, and winter! I miss winter. The blue white of fresh snow, silent and smooth, glistening in the moonlight, undisturbed. This memory, especially, brings peace to my mind when I am unsettled.

I live on a coast now, and I love the ocean. When it's not summer, with its suffocating heat and humidity, I will walk the edge between sand and sea, listening to my breathing and heart rate become one with the cadence of the waves.

I love it.

My heart, however, always longs for my mountain home.