Moving On: The City Left Behind

This is my last weekend in my summer home of Eagle Mountain. I moved home to satiate the desire of my head and heart. My head out of necessity, for my university studies had depleted all my funds, and my heart for love. Now I am not going stroll down memory lane and force you, my dear reader, to row through the ocean of my thoughts and experiences for you would be tossed amid tempests, compelled to endure mutiny aboard the ship, and fight the mythic Kraken to survive. But above all my dear reader you would see incomprehensible beauty that transcends the human experience. Beauty that I was most fortunate to experience. I believe I will rely on Charles Dickens and say:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way..."

It is with great trepidation that I return to my university studies and bid farewell to my summer city. It is not my intention to sound melodramatic, but this is how Wandle Mace felt when he left his city behind; though the names are different the feelings are the same, "Farewell Nauvoo the Beautiful, The City of Joseph! The home of so much joy and happy contentment, and also of the most exquisite sorrow and anguish" Wandle Mace was a Latter-Day Saint pioneer who was forced from his home by malicious and beastly men. He walked until he found peace and refuge in the Mountains of the West, his promised land. I do not mean to compare myself to him for I am confident that it would not be possible for me to persevere through the hardships he endured. My only wish is that after I leave my city I have enough faith and trust in God to continue to walking until I find my promised land.

I beg your indulgence my dear reader before I end. I said I wouldn't take you down memory lane, but there is one place we need to stop.

This is the special spot in my city at, quite literally, the end of the road. It is the spot that I frequent to contemplate life. I have shaken my fists in anger and frustration at God in Heaven and later gave thanks for His wisdom and temperance. I have worried over the apathy of society and subsequently rejoiced in its compassion. I have been brought to the point where words fail and have rowed into the uncharted waters that followed. This is the spot of unobstructed views. This is the spot of inspiration. This is the spot of transcendence. This is MY spot... ...that I now bid farewell.