my drive up the canyon

As I was driving up the canyon today, I forgot where I was for a moment. The winding road and the changing colors of the leaves reminded me of the fall in Vermont when I was in college. With the tires gliding around every curve, my body swaying in a constant, delicate motion, my eyes are forcefully on the road in an attempt not to stare at the trees. The rusted red, burnt orange and lustrous, golden leaves are mesmerizing and still today, a picture is not a beautiful as it being seen with my own eyes. As the car slowly embraces each curve, I am in no rush to reach the top. I am enchanted by the vibrant colors and desperate for a break in the canyon so I can sneak a peek at what is below me. Suddenly there is a change of scenery and I am in a forest of Quaking Aspen. The leaves of the Aspen tremble in the breeze with their tall, white, slender trunks and their large black eyes staring at me as if they loved me and their delicate leaves waving hello, welcoming me. My flash back is over and I come back, leaving behind my nostalgic memory. This is to no disappointment. As much as I loved Vermont, Utah is my home. I am not a native, but I have chosen Utah and I will forever be grateful for my choice.