Our July 4th was a Fantastic, yet Very Melancholy day. After spending a week and a half with family up north (SLC/Brigham City) we ended our trip with a visit south in Alton, UT. Considered Home for over a year. Home to our children's closest friends. Home to some of the animals we raised. Home to some of our dearest family members. Our People. Our Boy's Tribe.
The first picture in this album reflects the Joy our kiddos felt as we pulled in to Alton. Windows rolled down, the smell of pine and cow chips swirling around us, welcoming us home. Rolling hills covered in pine. Valley's filled with sage brush and field grass. Dotted by cows, horses, lamas, and "BUCKY!" Our little Nigerian Dwarf whether goat we sold. I was filled with bittersweet nostalgia as I watched him eat out next to the pond. The ponds. Three ponds welcome all who drive the five mile road leading in to the town of Alton. This time though, only two ponds have water. They are suffering from a terrible drought.
We were recognized and welcomed enthusiastically as we wound our way in to town. Should this be Home? - sigh. The familuar question settles in almost immidiately. The list of pros and cons are equal, and long.
Entering Alton is the closest thing we'll ever get to experiencing a time warp back in time 20 or 30 years. A time when the technicalities of life are simple. Everyone works hard. prays hard. and Then they play hard. Especially on America's birthday.
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