By Senator Lyle Hillyard
I really love Spring.
As a young boy growing up in Smithfield, Utah (that is just north of Logan for those of you who aren’t lucky enough to visit Cache Valley often), spring meant the chance to get out again.
I lived close to the mountains and foothills east of Smithfield, so hiking the area with my BB gun was almost a daily activity. On Easter weekend - or as soon as the wet weather allowed - I would hike with my friends to Crow Mountain just north of the city. As I got older we would go up the “pyramids” between Main Canyon on the north and Birch Canyon on the south to the seven points just west of Flat Top. Later, it would be horse back riding over the same areas as we could look back and view the valley and the farm land.
Now it is the time to get the garden planted, watch the lawn turn green and witness the sudden appearance of leaves on the trees. A welcome miracle every year.
I love the change in seasons. Each part of the year brings something special - it seems like the seasons change so fast that nothing ever gets very monotonous. I often walk in our neighborhood early in the morning, and it is fun to see the sun come over the east mountains and feel the fresh breeze. It feels good to be able to walk outside again, minus the heavy coat, and see the well kept lawns and visit with those friends who are also out.
When fall comes, you feel the touch of cold and see the leaves change. No place is prettier than Sardine Canyon when the leaves are turning. The Labor Day drive over to Bear Lake for a shake lets you see the many changes there with the housing and development.
The first frost and snow reminds me it is time to take up the garden and arrange to have the apples pressed into cider for the winter. Even the snow brings times of joy. It is fun to turn on the patio light and watch the snow fall on the back lawn while turning up the gas log in the fireplace and enjoying a hot cup of chocolate.
While there are a few “bad” days such as driving through Sardine Canyon in a heavy snow storm – or waiting for a hard rain to stop when there are things in the garden that must be done. These problems, however, are solved by just waiting for a short while.
I feel sorry for those who always see the same season.
Most days, when I round the curve near Wellsville and enter the valley, I say again – I am glad I live here.