Last weekend I was sitting in the passenger seat, singing along to Wicked, Pitch Perfect, and 1989, reading How to Win Friends and Influence People out loud, and drinking way too much root beer as Dad drove us through rain and snow and gorgeous, gorgeous southern Utah. As much as I love my Georgia trees, there is something about those massive rocks, the snow brushed tips and the burnt orange layers and the sparse grass pushing its way through the cracks that has managed to capture my heart as well. Nature is soothing. It's calming. This week as I found myself in the midst of a meltdown (what would the start of a new semester be without one?), I hopped in the car, grabbed a dirty from swig (obviously), and just drove, drove until I wasn't quite sure where I was, all I knew was that the mountains of Provo Canyon were brushing up next to the car windows and something about those giant cliffs made me feel so small. And driving home from the grandparents, with the lights of dozens of cities to my left and the empty openness of the snowy mountains on my right, the bonus tracks from 1989 tumbling out of the speakers, I felt like Utah was a tiny bit like home, something I could be a part of and call a part of me.
So I'm in love with nature. And remedies for meltdowns include city lights, snowy mountains, and dirty dr. peppers.
Sincerely, mad
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