Driving to work

The sun is almost too bright against the melting snow along the roads. There are clouds in the sky, but they are fine and wispy, like the hair of a small blonde girl. I look for my mountains and cannot find them - the clouds come down the to ground. Timpanogos is waving proudly above them, only the tip of the horn visible. The clouds swirl and part; I glimpse the rock beyond them. With a whoosh of sunlight, they close again and I am left with only the hint and promise of something more.

Sunset in January

There are not many things that I like about January, but the sunsets are one of them. While the rest of the days are cold, gray, and monotonous, sunset is when the mountains and sky come alive.

There is a certain slant of light in the evenings when the sunlight hits the mountains and only the mountains. Golden and glorious, Timpanogos and Cascade mountains to the north and east are illuminated while the rest of the sky is shaded and slowly slips into dark blue. The lines and crevices of their faces come into sharper focus and the snow smoothes the slopes into gentle curves. Sometimes a little pink or orange fills the snow with colors and shatters the white and gray of our January landscape.

Even once the sun finishes its descent behind the Lake mountains in the west, Timpanogos and Cascade stay bright for a moment longer. They are luminous, almost like they absorbed and now reflect the light of the day. In those moments, I can't believe the mountains are real. They are too present, too distinct, too there.

For that moment, some haziness is removed and all is clear. The mind-numbing sameness of January days is lifted and the world becomes lovely. I can breathe in the promise of winter's sharp beauty.

And we're back

Back to writing, because I think part of me is dying without it. Literally, I can feel my skills and words fading without being put to regular use. I made it a New Year's resolution (because really, why not?) to write four times a month on this blog, which will hopefully translate into one post every week. I need this space to practice, even if no one is reading, and I need the goal and deadline to keep me motivated.

I've already missed two submission deadlines this year for magazines that I had every intention of submitting to. I don't want that to happen anymore. The only way to get 100 rejections this year is if I start sending out my material.

So we're back to where we began, a semi-public forum to rush write, brainstorm, revise, and get ready for publication. This is part of who I am; I want it back.

Ready, set...