April showers

When I was a kid, I loved rainy days. They were my favorite. But now that I have a hobby that is best enjoyed during dry weather, I don't look forward to it as much. But if I have lots of things I have to get done inside, it can go ahead and rain, I won't mind.

On Monday, my stake and adjoining stakes did a concert/fireside with Gentri, a "gentleman's trio" that is signed with Deseret Book. I'd heard of them but never heard them. Now I understand why. They are talented singers, but I just found their style of music boring. I've been to a number of concerts by local musicians (including Cherie Call, the National Parks, Mideau, Vocal Point, Debra Fotheringham, Utah Symphony, and the Lower Lights), and this was probably the most boring. Even more boring than the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Maybe it's because it was a fireside rather than an actual concert. This paragraph makes it sound terrible. It wasn't, it was just forgettable.

Friday was Arbor Day, a holiday that is becoming increasingly obsolete. (Sorry, Nebraska, I'm going to guess that our state holiday is more exciting than yours.) Maybe it's becoming swallowed by Earth Day (which is becoming more popular), but we certainly need a day like Arbor Day even today. Climate change wasn't even an issue when J. Sterling Morton invented the holiday.

Anyway, on Arbor Day two years ago I first discovered the beauty of North Canyon, which has since become my favorite place in Bountiful. I went there again last year. But this year was snowy! Nevertheless, I still had to spend time in the trees on Arbor Day, so I thought it would be a good time to explore a little side road near the beginning of the dirt road/trailhead. I had been there once last year, but I wanted to see where it went.

 I felt a little bad going on such a wet day, because just a few days earlier I had heard a news article about people damaging local trails by using them when they're muddy. Well, I'm going to justify myself: (1) The road has lots of rocks, so most parts of it don't change shape when I step on it; (2) I'm less damaging than a wheel; (3) I do stay off of muddy trails, except this one day.

I'm not accustomed to seeing arrowleaf balsamroot covered in snow.

It was beautiful, even though it was lightly snowing.

 Alack, I didn't expect this road to end in a gate to "private property." I had thought it might go to the road and then I wouldn't have to go back through the mud to get to my car, but I was obedient and obeyed the signs. This gate was anticlimactic. But there are lots of steep side trails I might have to explore sometime.

There were lots of giant puddles.

Yesterday, I went to Thanksgiving Point's Tulip Festival, as I did two years ago. It's nice to get out of the house and out of Davis and Salt Lake Counties (barely...), but I can see lots of tulips on a smaller--but no less beautiful--scale for free at Temple Square.

I only included this because it seemed a shame to leave the tulip festival without any pictures of tulips. We were literally walking out.

They told us this is the largest man-made waterfall in the northwestern hemisphere. That's a lot of caveats. I wondered how they defined biggest. Tallest? Most volume of water? Most square feet?

Then yesterday, my friend Shane showed me a little trail head in North Salt Lake that I hadn't heard of. Three years ago, there was a famous landslide in NSL that destroyed a home and some tennis courts. That one garnered a lot of attention, but there was an older, less dramatic landslide in NSL that destroyed the foundations of several homes. They built this new trail near where they used to be, called Springhill Geologic Park. I had to visit it because (1) it's a trail, (2) "geologic" is the name, and (3) I thought I'd been to every park in NSL. Due to the tulip festival and taking my niece bowling, I didn't have time for a long run, so I just ran up this little trail. For just a tiny (less than one mile, with a 230-foot climb) trail in the middle of a neighborhood, I was impressed.

This I guess is the most "geologic" part of the trail. I was hoping for interpretive signs, but no. I didn't even stop to analyze the rock, though it's probably conglomerate.

I first saw tufted evening primrose last year on the Wild Rose Trail and fell in love with it, but I might have only seen it that one time. I was delighted to see this cluster. They only bloom in the evening. My book says they are also very fragrant, but I didn't stop to smell them. Next time I see them, I will.

At the top of the trail was a monument dedicated to Art Gregerson, a prominent developer of North Salt Lake. He's also notorious for shoddily built homes. What can I do to get a monument for me?