Red Rocks - White Sands

We live in a beautiful place, centrally located between Bryce Canyon National Park, Zion National Park, Lake Powell and the Grand Canyon. We're high enough not to be africa-hot like Vegas or St. George and we have 4 distinct and lovely seasons. Our little town has a population of about 550 people and we live at the edge of town next to a "wash" which runs right through the edge of our property. If we follow the wash up and out of town we end up in a wonderful little canyon. It's great for horseback riding, hiking and playing in the sand. What I really love about it is the beauty and diversity. Please bear with me - LOTS of pictures ahead, a walking tour of our private little un-national park.

Our favorite place to go, is a place called, um, White Sands, which is only a few minutes walk from our house. It's a hillside of, ah, white sand, that goes straight up so it's like a natural slide with sandstone cliffs and a soft place to land at the bottom. It's where we roll eggs every Easter.

And the kids love to climb to the top. (Can anyone else hear the Rocky theme in the background?)


They also love to bury each other in the sand.


It's almost like a private beach. We're really only missing one little thing. But that's okay, it's still fun.


It was such a pretty day, a little cool, but the clouds had a silver lining....

And continuing on up the canyon from White Sands, it looks like this:

and this...


Not bad, huh.

I love that we have desert plants alongside high mountain kinds of plants. And because it's fall, everything is colorful and unexpected and different from the thing next to it. As I look through the eye of my lens, every little detail is beautiful to me.



I don't even know why, but for some reason , I LOVE Ponderosa Pines. Asymmetrical, majestic, rugged.

...and right next to the high mountain Ponderosa, a little desert Sage.



I don't have any idea what this non-descript little feller is, but I thought he was kinda cute.


And here we are on the way back home again. My baby got cold and Dad donated his sweatshirt. Maybe we should dress him like that all the time, maybe that way he'd stay a baby.


Good times.