Do you get feelings about places? I mean, when you drive past a certain place, do you get an emotional reaction? As I drove up the street away from my school, I realized tonight that seeing the temple made me feel terrific. I smiled without realizing why for a minute. So I began to think about other locations that evoked an emotional response when I saw or passed through them.
Beaver, Utah, makes me irritated. Sorry, Beaverites...it is actually those two shark-like tire shysters that ply their smarmy trade on unsuspecting motorists that cause me to set my jaw and narrow my eyes as I drive through your town.
My stomach tightens, and I get anxious, when I drive past a hospital. I just don't like going to hospitals. I've had just enough bad times in a variety of them to have made an impression of unhappiness in their zone.
I always smile when I drove by Weinerschnitzel. I discovered this fast food franchise when I first moved to San Diego several decades ago, and I still like their chili dogs.
Two places that cause instantaneous relaxation is the beach and the top of the mountain pass that leads into the valley where I was born and raised. The beach is a total no-brainer. Every single time I get to the coast, I get out of the car and stand on the edge of the ocean and think to myself, "Now why did I move away from here??" The scent, the breeze, the sound of the surf, the very feel of the air...I'm more relaxed just sitting here typing a description of it. Imagine how much better it is to be standing there.
The Salt River Pass. I moved away from there 40 years ago, yet, each and every time I've driven up over that pass, I am compelled to stop the car, get out and marvel at the view of "my" mountains. They are almost like relatives. They're always there. They'll always be there. They welcome me home with affection and don't mind that I moved away. They just stand there guarding the valley with eternal vigilance. My plan is to see them on Resurrection Day. They'll still be there. It's home.
Beaver, Utah, makes me irritated. Sorry, Beaverites...it is actually those two shark-like tire shysters that ply their smarmy trade on unsuspecting motorists that cause me to set my jaw and narrow my eyes as I drive through your town.
My stomach tightens, and I get anxious, when I drive past a hospital. I just don't like going to hospitals. I've had just enough bad times in a variety of them to have made an impression of unhappiness in their zone.
I always smile when I drove by Weinerschnitzel. I discovered this fast food franchise when I first moved to San Diego several decades ago, and I still like their chili dogs.
Two places that cause instantaneous relaxation is the beach and the top of the mountain pass that leads into the valley where I was born and raised. The beach is a total no-brainer. Every single time I get to the coast, I get out of the car and stand on the edge of the ocean and think to myself, "Now why did I move away from here??" The scent, the breeze, the sound of the surf, the very feel of the air...I'm more relaxed just sitting here typing a description of it. Imagine how much better it is to be standing there.
The Salt River Pass. I moved away from there 40 years ago, yet, each and every time I've driven up over that pass, I am compelled to stop the car, get out and marvel at the view of "my" mountains. They are almost like relatives. They're always there. They'll always be there. They welcome me home with affection and don't mind that I moved away. They just stand there guarding the valley with eternal vigilance. My plan is to see them on Resurrection Day. They'll still be there. It's home.
We have a series of photos on this very spot...First with no children, then with babies, see them growing? Finally, we're taking shots of just us. But we simply have to stop, every time.
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