I loved watching the Golden Spike ceremonies on television last week. Took me back more years than I would normally want to admit. When I was a child, the big deal was the Days of ’47 (which had nothing to do with the railroads).

Music is a glue that holds all kinds of things together, from couples and families to nations, and beyond. I come from a musical family: Mother played the cello and the piano, learning piano first. Daddy played the piano and organ. During a period when I was still a young child, Mother had a job in the evening hours, so our father was left to both entertain and be entertained by us five children.

Now that Easter, and Jeep Safari week, have come and gone, it’s time to get down to the business of Spring in our little green valley. While perusing plants last week, I came upon one lonely strawberry plant. It soon became obvious why it was left by its lonesome in the flat: roots entwined (aka Sweet William’s rose and Barbara‘s thorny briar), it was growing with a healthy weed.

Aahhh, Spring in Moab. I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying it since 1956 (gosh, over 60 years, or more than an expected human lifetime not that many years back). My forsythia is in full golden bloom just outside the back door, and both the apricot and peach trees are blossoming. Heaven.