I moved around a lot during my upbringing.
Although a little skewed, I attended 10 schools in my 13 years of public education. Yes that includes Kindergarten. No I didn’t repeat a year. Nice try.
During that time, it’s hard to grow attached to any one place. So when I find a place to which I do grow attached, rest assured it’s a good one.
During the years of raising kids, the recreation money wore thin and we found many hours recreating within the minivan and driving into the mountains that border the Salt Lake valley.
Within these Wasatch Mountains is a canyon called Big Cottonwood and 17 miles up the canyon, where it ends at nearly 9,000 ft. elevation, lies a small mountain lake called Silver Lake.
During the hundreds of trips, we saw the improvements to the trail and boardwalk around it. We’ve been there during scorching summer days and have tromped through knee-deep snow banks. I pushed strollers and later begged kids to slow down. I’ve dragged teenagers out of the car and watched them reluctantly enjoy themselves.
We’ve seen moose and deer, watched the beaver build their dams and lodges, and watch the hundreds of trout rise in the evenings for their daily gorge of insects.
Silver Lake grew to my most favorite place in the world. Every step holds a memory. I know the trees, the banks of the lake, and the wood planks of the boardwalk as if they were family. I can tell a story related to every point on the one mile trail. It’s a picture board of my life with my kids.
Those days and events have stopped now. The chronicle of my children’s life will no longer be measured against the backdrop of this beautiful setting. The visits have dropped in frequency and always void of children.
In less than two weeks Silver Lake, however, will be the site of the wedding to my new bride.
The past will remain in the past and in my memories. The future lies before me. The thing that will remain consistent is my favorite place in the whole world shared with those I love the most.