Peaks, lakes and tundra dominate the scenery along the Beartooth Highway on the border of Montana and Wyoming.

On this Independence Day I wanted to do something special to celebrate the “land that I love,” from its spacious skies and amber waves of grain to its purple mountain majesties and, of course, those fruited plains.

I consider myself to be quite fortunate that I’ve had the opportunity to travel to each of the 50 states. It was a goal of mine to visit all of them before I turned 30, and in 2008, I just happened to celebrate the end of those three decades in Hawaii, which was my last state to visit.

Having spent so much time traveling this beautiful nation, I’m especially touched by the references to American landscape in the patriotic songs we sing.

“My native country, thee / Land of the noble free / Thy name I love
I love thy rocks and rills / Thy woods and templed hills
My heart with rapture thrills / Like that above.”

I’ve felt my heart thrill with rapture in the rocks of Utah and the rills of New Hampshire, the woods of Washington and the templed hills of North Carolina.

While singing “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” in church on Sunday, I felt those same emotions stir within me as the picturesque landscapes of my life flooded my memory. I remembered the serenity of the Hoh Rainforest on Washington’s Olympic Peninsula and the morning majesty of sunrise over North Carolina’s Great Smoky Mountains. I remembered cathedral-like calm of Golden Canyon in California’s Death Valley and quaint autumnal vistas of Stowe, Vermont. I remembered walking black sand beaches on Hawaii’s Big Island with my mom and cruising past Alaska’s towering peaks with my dad. I remember standing at the edge of Arizona’s Grand Canyon with Cammie and watching it fill with clouds as we fell in love.

With all those memories paying me a welcome visit, I decided to write them down in the most comprehensive travelogue I’ve written. I started on it Sunday after church and finished it early Wednesday morning, fittingly, on Independence Day.

Alabama — I first visited Alabama during a 1995 trip to the South at the invitation of my uncle Quinn Passey, who was living in Houston at the time. During the two weeks were there, we visited four states, including the Yellowhammer State. But it was in 2006 that I spent a fun week in Alabama going through a FEMA community emergency management training along with elected officials and first responders from Washington County, Utah. I role-played as a reporter for the training and did real reporting for The Spectrum, sending stories and photos back to the newspaper. It was an important moment for me as a new journalist because I had mostly seen these people as sources, and sometimes sources that I didn’t always trust (the elected officials more so than the first responders … though I’ll admit there were plenty of police officers that were not always helpful when I was just trying to do my job). But after spending time with them in Alabama, I saw them as individuals, people with hopes and dreams and families. People who just wanted to do the right things for their community.

Alaska — I could write a long chapter on special Alaskan moments and I’ve only visited twice. It was the destination of my first plane ride when I was only 14 years old. My uncle Quinn Passey was living in Anchorage at that time, and he flew my cousin Eric and me up to The Last Frontier for two weeks during the summer of 1993. It still stands out as one of the greatest adventures of my life. We went rappelling southeast of Anchorage while beluga whales swam through Turnagain Arm below us. We took a train to the isolated town of Whittier. We rode on a boat through Kenai Fjords National Park. We rafted on the Nenana River and I got stuck in an eddy when I was at the oars. We watched grizzly cubs play in the snow in Denali National Park. We took a small plane flight around Mt. McKinley (now back to its original name, Denali) and then landed on a glacier and had a snowball fight. Quinn also tricked me into getting attacked by seagulls. Oh, and I developed a lifelong love for Pepperidge Farms’ Orange Milano cookies. In 2012, I returned to Alaska with my dad. This time we drove there along the Alaska Highway. And while it wasn’t full of as many adventures, this time I was a much better photographer, so I came home with some nice images. I also developed a love for halibut, so Alaska was heavenly in that regard. While in homer, I had a halibut filet, halibut sushi and a halibut burger, all within a 24-hour period.

Arizona — It’s still somewhat strange to think that Arizona is home. I’m an Arizonan. With its proximity to Utah, I’ve had many grand adventures in the Grand Canyon State, even before I became a resident. There’s an intoxicating beauty here and I love it more each day. It’s where I first met Cammie and where we became engaged, sitting on a rock above the Agua Fria River in Agua Fria National Monument. Yet, even as special as that moment was, I think my favorite Arizona experience was a magical weekend on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon at the end of January 2014. I was dating Cammie and things were beginning to become serious. The word “marriage” had been mentioned. We “met in the middle” that day, with Cammie traveling north from Phoenix and me traveling south from St. George. And when we arrived at the South Rim, a mysterious fog was wafting over the Colorado Plateau. Soon it descended into the Grand Canyon itself and we were treated to a rare but stunningly gorgeous inversion as this gigantic gash in the earth filled with clouds. It will forever remain a special memory as we reveled in the joy of new love and natural beauty.

Arkansas — My one and only visit to Arkansas came on my first cross-country road trip during the summer of 2001. I was still in college at the time and driving to the national convention of the National Press Photographers Association in Memphis. I was slightly ahead of schedule as I entered Arkansas, so I decided to take a small detour into the Ozarks. While I had time for a detour, I didn’t have much time to stop and take photos. I may have only one or two, and I don’t remember much from the drive beyond my excitement for the mountain vert and that I was listening to “The Invisible Band” by Travis. That album would go on to become one of my favorites of my college years, and I still associate it with that little detour through the Ozarks. Unfortunately, the only other thing I remember about my one and only visit to the Natural State, was getting stuck in a traffic jam on the freeway as I was driving into Memphis.

California — California has also been the location of many grand adventures through the years, from childhood trips to the San Diego Zoo and Disneyland to the time I attended a red carpet event for the season finale of the “The Voice” and almost literally brushed shoulders with Stevie Nicks and Christina Aguilera. While my most treasured trip was my 2015 honeymoon to the redwoods with Cammie, my biggest adventure in the Golden State was probably a 2014 solo trip to Death Valley National Park. I expected to like it but I had no idea I would fall in love with this harsh corner of the earth and its stark beauty. It’s a place where God’s sculpting hand as the Creator is clearly on display and I felt his presence there often, from sunset in Golden Canyon to sunrise at Dante’s View.

Colorado — Like many of the western states, it’s difficult to decide which of my great adventures in Colorado to commemorate here. There was might first trip to the state on my first solo, multi-day road trip in 1995, when I was only 16 years old. Or there were my multiple trips to the Durango/Mesa Verde National Park area while I was living in St. George. But the most memorable was probably my post-high school graduation solo trip in 1997, when I spent a week touring the Centennial State, all by myself. My dad let me take his new Chevy Tahoe, which doubled as a “tent” for me, with its seats removed. I explored Rocky Mountain National Park, ghost towns, Aspen and everything in between. Every time I think I’m a desert rat for life, I take a trip to Colorado Rocky Mountain High and I begin to wonder if maybe I’m mistaken.

Connecticut — For some strange reason, I don’t remember many specifics about my time in Connecticut. But it was the destination point for a 2006 trip with my mom that led to crossing six states of my “to visit” list. At that point, there were only seven states I had not visited: Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine and Hawaii. So, when Mom and I flew into Hartford to begin a week of exploring New England, it put me in a good position to make my goal of visiting all 50 states by the time I turned 30. I celebrated my 28^th birthday while on the trip. And though I don’t remember specifics about the Constitution State scenery, I do know it was gorgeous. After all, it was autumn in New England.

Delaware — I guess I could classify Delaware as my biggest disappointment. I had wanted to visit the First State since I was a young teen, entirely because of a single line in the movie “Wayne’s World.” They were basically making fun of how lame Delaware is. So I decided to become obsessed with Delaware. I was a weird kid. Anyway, I was convinced that Delaware was going to be awesome because I had willed it to be so. When I arrived there during my big, 2001 cross-country trip, I stopped briefly at Cape Henlopen State Park, touched the Atlantic Ocean for the first time, got back into my car and drove to Philadelphia.

Florida — Oh, Florida. Subject of so many jokes. So many entirely appropriate jokes. But it also has a special place in my heart. I actually “lived” in the Sunshine State for six weeks during the summer of 2004. After graduating from the University of Idaho, I did a six-week writing fellowship at the Poynter Institute for Media Studies in St. Petersburg. While there, I lived on an island called St. Pete Beach and crossed a drawbridge every morning on my way to the program. The beach was only two blocks from the studio apartment I rented for $400 a week(!). This was a big change for a kid raised in rural Idaho. But those six weeks resulted in a lot of great memories, from chowing down on grouper sandwiches and 4^th of July fireworks over the ocean to driving the Sunshine Skyway Bridge and flying over Tampa Bay with a service dog in training. I had my share of … interesting … experiences as well, including skinny dipping in the ocean and interviewing strippers. But what I’ll remember most, aside from the priceless journalism knowledge I gained at the Poynter Institute, was how quickly you can bond with a group of people. I still have many fond memories of my fellow Poynter Pals, especially my St. Pete Beach Buddies, Alicia and Erin.

Georgia — I first visited Georgia on my way home from my Florida summer in 2004. I stayed overnight in Savannah. Because I only had enough time to eat dinner and drive around town for an hour or so, I knew I had to come back someday and explore. In the summer of 2016, Cammie and celebrated our first anniversary with a cross-country road trip that took us to Savannah. We spent a few hours walking through its historic town squares — each filled with statues and trees — before having dinner and shopping in the lovely downtown area. We watched taffy being pulled in a candy shop and saw the sun go down over the Savannah River. I definitely want to return to the Peach State someday and spend even more time in Savannah, but maybe when it’s not August and humid.

Hawaii — As mentioned in my Connecticut post, following my New England trip with my mom in 2006, I only had one state left to make my goal of visiting all 50 before I turned 30, just two years later. Well, in 2008, my mom and I booked another trip. This time I would be celebrating my 30^th birthday on the Big Island. Because I tend to try and pack too many things into most road trips, we decided to try and be a little more relaxed this time around and only visit one island. Five full days was perfect for exploring all the major sights and a few hidden gems on Hawaii, including black sand beaches, Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, a few historic sites, some lovely botanical gardens and a picturesque valley that was almost too beautiful to be believed (I hiked into that one on my birthday). The food was also quite memorable, especially the mahi mahi, which I ate a number of times on the trip, including twice on my birthday. While the Big Island was fantastic, the next time I visit the Aloha State, I want to try out a different island.

Idaho — Although I was born in Utah and started my career there, I will always think of myself as an Idaho boy. After all, I moved there in 1984, when I was only 5 years old, and remained until I graduated from the University of Idaho in 2004, 20 years later. My only time away from the Gem State was the year I spent as a missionary in the Philippines through most of 1998. How do you write about your home state? Do I focus on the pastoral farmlands of the Snake River Plain, where I grew up, or the outdoor wonderland of Island Park, a favorite day trip in my formative years? As much as I love both of those places in the southeastern corner of the state, it was my three years in northern Idaho that changed my life. My time in Moscow, while attending the University of Idaho, not only turned me into a journalist, it also made me the person I am today. A large part of that is due to people like my friend and former roommate, David Jack. But other good friends like Jake, Joy, Emiline, Casandra, Katie and Jess all played a large role. Thank you all for helping me find me. Plus, the Palouse is a surprisingly beautiful and magical place. I was never at a loss for a quick scenic drive as I explored the winding highways and dusty backroads, where the thick pine forests intertwined with a patchwork of hilly farmland.

Illinois — I first drove through Illinois in 2001 on my big cross-country road trip, but it was just for a few hours at night. Much more memorable was a trip to Chicago in 2010 while visiting my sister, Becca, in St. Louis. I followed Interstate 55 through the heart of the Land of Lincoln, taking small stretches of old Route 66 along the way. I even had a corn dog at the diner that supposedly originated the menu staple. Finally, I made it to the Chicago. The next morning, I took a train downtown and spent the full day exploring the Windy City: Navy Pier, Adler Planetarium, Shedd Aquarium and the top of Willis Tower, of course. But easily my favorite part of the day was the architecture tour by boat. In fact, it’s one of the best touristy activities I’ve ever done. Before leaving town the following day, I made my way to the Museum of Science and Industry, where I had a superb time learning about everything from the science of weather to a captured World War II U-boat.

Indiana — “I remember the first time I drove through Indiana,” I and I played that song, by The Samples, while making that drive on the same big 2001 trip that took me uneventfully through Illinois. I returned in 2016 with Cammie on our first anniversary road trip, and this time we stayed with our friend Brittney in Indianapolis. We were surprised by Indy, with its quirky-cool arts district and towering war memorials. It was much more than the famous speedway, which we visited as well. When I discovered that one of my favorite authors, Kurt Vonnegut, was from Indianapolis, I knew I had to buy a book or two or four while I was there. I found them at a bookstore just a few blocks from a massive Vonnegut mural. Then we ate at a restaurant named for a Vonnegut character. It was a very Vonnegut day. Then it was over. So it goes. Brittney is still there, so hopefully we’ll make it back to the Hoosier State to visit sometime soon. I’m sure Indy has more treasures to discover.

Iowa — While I’ve been through Iowa thrice now, each trip was just through a small corner of the Hawkeye State. My first trip came on my way back home from the 2001 trip. I took in just about 14 miles of the southwest corner of the state. I don’t remember this at all. My second visit was on my way back home to Idaho from Florida in 2004. I had stopped in St. Louis to see with Becca, who had just moved there about two months earlier. And since I had not yet been to Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota and North Dakota, I decided to take an oddly roundabout route between the Show Me State and the Gem State. This took me into 70 miles of the southeast corner of Iowa. All I remember from this journey was crossing the Mississippi as I entered Wisconsin. My third visit followed the same 14-mile route as the first one, but in the opposite direction and slightly more memorable because I was listening to “Iowa” by Dar Williams, whom I happened to be seeing in concert later that evening in St. Louis with Becca.

Kansas — Living in the west and having a sister in Missouri means that I’ve traveled through Kansas … a lot. And it’s not the most exciting state. Though I did have a really nice morning in Wichita once, where I visited the art museum, walked along the Arkansas River and watched a grounds crew pull a riding lawnmower out of the river. Most memorable, however, is probably Dodge City … and not in a good way. A while back I stopped in Dodge, figuring it might make for a fun travel story for the newspaper. It didn’t. After about an hour I just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge, which I wrote in my story. A few years later, I was writing about Tombstone, Arizona, and mentioned that although it was fairly kitschy, it was still better than Dodge City. Then I repeated my “clever” line about Dodge. This time, a couple from Dodge happened to pick up the newspaper while visiting St. George, and they promptly went home to tell the local visitors bureau that they needed to do something about this so-called “travel writer” in southern Utah. I ended up with a phone call from the bureau inviting me to come back and give Dodge City another chance. A few days later I got a package from the bureau filled with all sorts of Dodge City information and knickknacks … most of it fairly kitschy. I have not returned.

Kentucky — I’ve now passed through Kentucky thrice but I still have yet to do anything in the Bluegrass State. The first trip was on my way home from the 2001 cross-country journey. The second trip was on the way home from Florida three years later. In both instances I was driving to St. Louis for the night. The second time it was in the middle of an extremely long day of driving. By the end of that night, I would have been behind the wheel for 17 hours and nearly 1,000 miles. My third trip was as a passenger, riding with my mom, Becca and her husband, Ben, to meet my dad in Nashville. I will say this, although I haven’t actually stopped to do anything in Kentucky aside from getting gas, I’ve always been impressed with its beauty. While it’s as lush and green as any other Southern state, its seems to have more rocky outcroppings and variety to the scenery. So it always makes for a pleasant drive, even on the beaten paths of the freeways.

Louisiana — I’ve been to the Bayou State four times now and each was extremely memorable. The first time was as a teenager, while touring the South with my Uncle Quinn in 1995. He took us to Bourbon Street on a Saturday night and suddenly the shelter little boy from Idaho wasn’t so sheltered anymore. But, I sure loved that Cajun food. I was soon obsessed with gumbo. The second time was in 2004, on my way to Florida for the summer. I stayed with my college roommate David Jack, who was living there. He gave me a tour of some beautifully haunting above-ground cemeteries and then took me to a wonderful hole-in-the-wall Cajun joint. The third trip was the most memorable, but the least fun. It was only two weeks after Hurricane Katrina and I was reporting on the recovery efforts. New Orleans was a ghost town. It was one the eeriest and most surreal experiences of my life. Bourbon Street was still boarded up. Power was still out downtown, so none of the traffic lights were working. A major American city was brought to its knees. Happily, when I returned 11 years later with Cammie on our first anniversary trip, the city seemed to be doing much better. David Jack had returned after a few years in Texas (fortuitously, he had moved a few months before Katrina). And the food was still fantastic as we dined on rabbit stew and curry alligator.

Maine — Sadly, Maine suffered from my tendency to overestimate how much time I have on vacations. It came toward the end of my 2006 fall colors tour of New England with my mom. And because I thought we would travel faster, we only ended up with a few hours in Maine. Still, it was enough to realize that Portland is a groovy town and I definitely want to spend some time there someday. Plus, we had a lobster dinner on the coast with an absolutely gorgeous view of a lighthouse. It might not have been a very long time in the Pine Tree State but we certainly packed a lot into those few hours.

Maryland — I first visited Maryland on my 2001 cross-country trip. It was part of my first visit to the Washington, D.C., area. After spending all day touring the monuments on the National Mall during the summer heat, I was beginning to get a migraine. So I decided to drive to the LDS Washington D.C. Temple, which is actually located in Kensington, Maryland. I figured I could sit in the visitors center and enjoy the air conditioning before hitting the road to stay on schedule for my next stop. But once I got there, I realized I wasn’t in driving condition. Being on a college student budget, I hadn’t planned to get a hotel room that night (I was going to stay with a great aunt in New Jersey) and most of the hotels in this area were going to be expensive. But one of the missionaries at the visitors center suggested I could stay with a local Mormon lady who ran a bed and breakfast for fellow Mormons who came to temple. I was able to rest and she even gave me a discount when I won her over with my charm. My only other visit to the Old Line State came in 2016 as Cammie and drove through just a few miles of Maryland that stick out into West Virginia, but I got one of my favorite photos of that trip there as I captured a barn, glowing in the magic hour light and green fields while dark storm clouds glowered in the distance.

Massachusetts — The Bay State was part of my 2006 New England trip with my mom. We stayed in western Massachusetts for our second night of the trip, after stopping at a picturesque waterfall, where a rainbow’s variety of fallen leaves were swirling through the currents of the stream. A few days later, we passed through the state again on our way back to Connecticut to fly home. We had planned to spend some time in Boston, but like Maine, we ran out of time to visit all the places we wanted to go. So instead of Boston, we simply stopped in Salem, where we managed to catch a “witch tour” before jumping back on the freeway and heading toward Connecticut.

Michigan — Not many people just “pass through” the Upper Peninsula on their way to somewhere else, unless that somewhere else is Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. My somewhere else was Minnesota. Again, it was on the way home from Florida and I hadn’t ever been to the Great Lake State. It just so happened that the best way to take in part of Michigan while traveling between Wisconsin and Minnesota is to drive through a sliver of the Upper Peninsula for about an hour. I didn’t see much except trees and a lot of cars with canoes on top. I thought, “I could probably live somewhere like this.” Then I stopped in the middle of the road, because no cars were coming, and got out so I could say I set foot in Michigan. That was my only stop.

Minnesota — My only trip to Minnesota was also part of the 2004 return trip from Florida, as mentioned in the Michigan entry. But I had a chance to spend a little bit longer in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. After spending a surprisingly chilly summer night in Duluth, which has a cool industrial vibe to it, I hit the road, driving westward across the state with North Dakota as my destination. I remember just a few details from that trip. There were a bunch of lakes. I feel like I saw 9,000 of those famous 10,000, but it was probably only, like, 23 or something. And it was super-windy, the kind of windy that viciously blows your car door shut when you step out briefly to take a picture of Lake No. 17. Also, I was listening to The Cure while driving through. I don’t know why I remember that.

Mississippi — My first visit to Mississippi was poignant. It was during my 1995 tour of the South as a teenager. Quinn took us to Vicksburg National Military Park, where I experienced a Civil War Battlefield for the first time and began to get a sense of what that war took from our nation … and also how necessary it was for our black brothers and sisters. Plus I got to see the ruins of an ironclad gun boat, which fascinated me because I had written a report about them in school. Plus, we drove along a section of the verdant Natchez Trace Parkway, where I became enamored with kudzu. I would later drive along the Mississippi Coast on my way to Florida in 2004 and then return to see it devastated, post-Hurricane Katrina in 2005. The Mississippi coast was obliterated. Beautiful seafront homes I had seen just a year earlier had become just concrete slabs. Slightly farther inland, rubble remained but that was it. The destruction still haunts me. But, thankfully, Cammie and I returned to the Magnolia State in 2016 and while some of the seafront homes were still obviously missing, much of the coast had rebuilt and it almost looked as if a hurricane had never passed through. Resiliency is pretty neat.

Missouri — With my only sibling living in the Show Me State for 14 years now, I’ve spent a lot of time there through the years. My first visit was in 2001 on the cross-country trip, though my only real stops were a few Mormon historical sites northeast of Kansas City. My best moments in Missouri have been times spent with family. In 2014 I famously made three visits to St. Louis. That’s just what happens when your first nephew is born. Little Vale is now 4 and our most recent visit was in May to see his new little brother, Soul. With so much time spent in Missouri, I’ve racked up a bunch of other adventures, like watching soda being bottled at Fitz’s, eating Italian food on The Hill, attending my first professional sporting event (a Cards game), eating toasted ravioli, being a rare dude at Lilith Fair, eating Ted Drewes’ frozen custard, immersing myself in Mark Twain at Hannibal and watching Chuck Berry, one of the inventors of rock ‘n’ roll, play the opening riff to “Johnny B. Goode” during his final concert at Blueberry Hill’s Duck Room. Oh yeah, that arch thing is pretty groovy too.

Montana — Growing up in southeast Idaho, we visited Montana more than about any other state except Utah and Wyoming. Weekend trips to Bozeman or even day trips to West Yellowstone were common. Occasionally we would explore farther as a family, like Glacier National Park or Havre. When I began attending school at the University of Idaho from 2001-2004, trips through Big Sky Country became routine, since the fastest route between Rexburg and Moscow was through western Montana. I didn’t mind, especially the section of Interstate 90 from Butte west to the Idaho border. It’s mostly mountain, rivers and trees and is some of the prettiest freeway country in the nation. My favorite adventure, though, would have to be a 2003 trip to Glacier National Park with a bunch of friends from the University of Idaho. We camped for three nights in the park and did a whole bunch of hiking as well, where we came within feet of mountain goats and basked in the spray of monumental waterfalls.

Nebraska — As strange as it might sound, one of my favorite national park experiences was in Nebraska. Yes, my first couple of trips through the Cornhusker State were not exactly exciting — just your standard freeway journeys along Interstate 80. But in 2014, on the way home from one of my three trips to Missouri that year, I looked for anything that might be of interest in southern Nebraska and found Homestead National Monument of America. I figured a small national monument about homesteading might be interesting for an hour or so. Three hours after I arrived, I had to pull myself away to get back on schedule. Not only was the history fascinating, but it was also a surprisingly beautiful place, where the National Park Service is striving to restore the original prairie grasses and other species. The nature hike along the perimeter of the restored prairie — with a short detour along a creek and through the woods — was perfectly serene. And the image of a curtain wafting gently through the open window of a historic schoolhouse is part of my treasured memories of my short time there.

Nevada — Despite living so closely to Nevada for many years, I’m surprisingly lacking in great adventures from the Silver State. As far as western states go, it’s just not as overwhelmingly scenic as, well, any of the others. That said, it’s not all about Las Vegas, either. Yes, I’ve had some fun experiences there, including some of the best entertainment I’ve ever seen (“The Beatles Love,” Arcade Fire, Imogen Heap). But my favorite spot in Nevada in Great Basin National Park. Rising from the high desert of the Great Basin itself at about 5,000 feet, Wheeler Peak towers over the landscape at more than 13,000 feet. A short drive takes you nearly to the top, where you feel as if you’re on an island of green in the middle of an ocean of desert. As tranquil creeks bubble through stands of aspen and pine, you have you ask yourself if you’re really in Nevada. What’s so great about Great Basin National Park is the diversity. It’s not just the mountaintop wonderland and the high desert base, but also what you find underground. The mystical caverns of Lehman Caves are definitely worth a little exploration time.

New Hampshire — While I enjoyed something in every state on the 2006 trip to New England with my mom, but New Hampshire was probably my favorite. Not only does it have hallmarks of the surrounding states — brightly colored autumn leaves, picturesque covered bridges, gentle mountain slopes — it also has Franconia Notch State Park. We went there initially to see the famous Old Man of the Mountain, only to discover, after staring at the cliff and trying to see its craggy face for about five minutes, that it had recently crumbled. But then we came across Flume Gorge. I only explored it for about 10 minutes while my mom waited in the car, but it still stands out in my memory as one of the neatest natural wonders I’ve seen. And I didn’t even make it all the way to the actual gorge. But the little waterway I followed and photographed for those few minutes is seared into my memory. I definitely need to return to the Granite State for some quality time in Franconia Notch someday.

New Jersey — After hearing so many jokes about New Jersey while I was growing up, I was surprised with just how pretty it was as I made my way through Princeton to stay with my Great Aunt Annette and her husband, Dave, just west of Newark, during my 2001 cross-country trip. The focus of my stay there was actually a trip into New York City with Uncle Dave, but it was also a great experience to get to know both of them better. They even introduced me to one of my favorite books and authors, “Cold Mountain” by Charles Frazier. As I would learn when we went into the city, Dave had a knack for introducing little hidden gems even as we were surrounded by some of the most famous places on the planet. One of those was a little green area, just around the block from their home. Most would just think it’s a simple neighborhood park. But those of us who grew up in the West often forget the sheer amount of American history found in the east, like this little park that was once the site of a battle in the Revolutionary War. Welcome to the Garden State.

New Mexico — There are parts of New Mexico that are absolutely ugly, like the oil fields near Hobbs. But there is also spectacular natural beauty, like the gleaming gypsum crystals of White Sands National Monument, and stunning created beauty, like the art that fills the countless galleries along Canyon Road in Santa Fe. Even in the southeast corner of the Land of Enchantment, not all the far away from Hobbs, there is some breathtaking beauty to be found. Here, however, the enchantment is underground. I didn’t think I was a cave person until I visited Carlsbad Caverns National Park in 2013 on my way to meet friends in Texas. I signed up for a tour, descended in the elevator and stepped out into another world. I couldn’t believe how comfortable I felt so far underground. It wasn’t claustrophobic at all. In fact, what I remember most is the immensity of the caverns. The photographer in me couldn’t get enough of the colors and formations. As a surface dweller, the landscape was fascinatingly alien. I was so hesitant to leave that I made the decision to hike out the natural opening — a climb of 1,000 feet in one mile — so I could lengthen my Carlsbad experience.

New York — As I mentioned in the New Jersey entry, my Great Uncle Dave took me into New York City during my 2001 cross-country trip. That’s right. 2001. July 5. Just two months and six days before Sept. 11, 2001. As we cruised past the Statue of Liberty on our way to Ellis Island, we enjoyed what was the iconic view of Manhattan at the time, a striking skyline dominated by the Twin Towers. Ellis Island alone was worth the trip but Dave also showed me some little Empire State treasures, like Alexander Hamilton’s grave at Trinity Church, before heading to lunch. We were just going to eat at a Burger King, but then Dave asked if I wanted to eat at Windows on the World at the top of the North Tower. So, we did, of course. I don’t really remember the meal, but I remember the view — a view that I wouldn’t be able to remove from my mind’s eye just a few months later as I imagined those who might have been in Windows on the World that September morning, only to look out and see an airliner crash into the building below them. But for me, in July of 2001, the most poignant experience was visiting the International Center of Photography, another little surprise of Uncle Dave’s, who knew that I had a great interest in the art. The ICP just happened to have on display and exhibition of Sebastião Salgado’s “Migrations” — a collection of stark black and white images that portrayed the hardships of refugee and migrant populations throughout the world. It was the first time that art brought me to tears. I bought a book of the photos to remember how the power of art moved me that day.

North Carolina — I’m enamored with the South but I don’t think I could live in most of the Southern states. The Tar Heel State might be an exception. My most recent visit came in 2016 on our first anniversary road trip. We met up with some dear friends of mine, Amy and Hilary, for lunch in Durham before staying with one of Cammie’s best friends, Kade, and his partner, Artis, in their lovely Raleigh home. But as far as adventures go, you just can’t beat the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s still the prettiest day of driving I’ve ever experienced as I traveled between Great Smoky Mountains National Park on the Tennessee/North Carolina border to Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. This majestic mountaintop journey redefines the phrase “scenic drive.” And all the best bits are in North Carolina. I spent the night before my drive sleeping in my car along the side of the road. I woke up in a misty mountain heaven — the kind of scene that doesn’t seem to be real, even as you’re looking at it with your own eyes.

North Dakota — My memories of North Dakota are clear at the beginning and the end, but fairly fuzzy in the middle. My only trip there was on my way home from Florida in 2004. Yep, I’m that guy who travels from central Florida to southern Idaho via North Dakota. But I was able to check it off my list. I remember the far east side, where I entered the state, because I had my initial interview for the job that would start my career while driving through Fargo. That’s where my first editor, Angie Parkinson, interviewed me by phone for a possible position at The Spectrum newspaper in St. George. But it was the far western side of the state — Theodore Roosevelt National Park, to be precise — where I had my grand Roughrider State adventure. I arrived there at sunset, so I fell asleep in my car at a rest stop. I awoke just before dawn and drove into the park, putting me in the midst of the badlands as the sun rose, illuminating the landscape and casting a beautiful glow on the bison and wild horses along the side of the road. It’s another one of those memories that replays in my mind like something from a movie, perhaps because of its surreal nature. Is reality really that beautiful?

Ohio — I’ll always think of fireflies in Ohio. It wasn’t the first place I saw them. The Tennessee side of Great Smoky Mountains National Park has that distinction, but when I saw them there they were in the distance. Just a few days later, though, as I continued my 2001 cross-country trip, I stopped in Dayton, Ohio, to stay with another great uncle and aunt. It was already dark when I arrived, but my Uncle Bill was up for a little adventure. He was in his late 70s, I believe, but when fireflies appeared in his front yard, he called me outside to help him chase them. I will always remember Uncle Bill’s enthusiasm for life, whether it was fishing or his career with the U.S. Air Force. The day after the Great Firefly Chase, he took me to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base to visit the U.S. Air Force Museum before I hit the road. In 2016, I returned to the Buckeye State with Cammie, but it was a long day of driving from Indianapolis to Manassas, Virginia, so we didn’t have time to stop for anything but food and gas.

Oklahoma — Like Nebraska and Kansas, I’ve driven through Oklahoma many times while traveling east to visit Becca and her family in Missouri. Now that I live in Phoenix, the Oklahoma route is the most direct, so I’ll probably become well-acquainted with the state. My favorite part about that particular drive is that interstates 40 and 44 parallel the old path of Route 66. However, there are still quite a few stretches of the old road through the middle of the Sooner State. And these stretches have some of my favorite old Route 66 attractions, like Pony Bridge, near the town of Bridgeport. This distinctive bridge has 38 bright yellow pony trusses that stretch out for 3,900 feet across the South Canadian River. Completed in 1934, it even appeared in the classic 1939 film “The Grapes of Wrath.” My other favorite historic stop is the Arcadia Round Barn, just north of Oklahoma City. This massive red barn, built in 1898, is 45 feet tall and 60 feet in diameter. It also happens to be close to my favorite modern stop, Pops, a large convenience store and restaurant specializing in bottled soda. You can’t miss the 4-ton pop bottle that appears white during the day and lights up at night. After all it is, appropriately, 66 feet tall.

Oregon — One of my mom’s favorite places is the Oregon Coast. We took two different family trips to the coast during the 1990s, and for the second trip we even had my Grandma Passey — Nana — along for the ride, since we were going to a family reunion with her siblings and all their descendants. That trip came shortly after I got my first SLR and I quickly fell in love with photographing ferns and tide pools. One of my favorite photos came as I set my camera up on a tripod on the beach during sunset and then walked out to get a self-portrait with the myriad hues falling across the water and sky. I misjudged the length of the 10-second timer and couldn’t hear the beeping over the waves, so it took the photo before I turned around. This was before the days of digital, so I didn’t even realize it until I got my photos developed. But the result was a pretty cool shot of me walking off into the sunset. Aside from the coast, I absolutely love Portland and the Columbia River Gorge, just east of the city. Powell’s City of Books and the Japanese gardens are just two of the groovy Portland attractions, but the Columbia River Gorge is almost up there with Olympic National Park for me. A number of gorgeous waterfalls — including the famous and majestic Multnomah Falls — are visible from the road and others can be reached by hiking both short and long distances. It almost seems unfair to other parts of the country that God put so many beautiful things in one small section of the Beaver State. But that’s what makes the Columbia River Gorge so special.

Pennsylvania — As I was creating my itinerary for my first big cross-country road trip in 2001, I realized I would be near Philadelphia for the 4^th of July. Obviously, I had to make sure I was there on Independence Day. What better day to visit Independence Hall? But when I arrived, my plans were nearly derailed. I could tell something was happening beyond a typical 4^th of July celebration. All the guys in sunglasses with earpieces gave it away. Sure enough, President George W. Bush was going to be speaking outside Independence Hall for his first Independence Day as president. So my visit had to be delayed for a couple of hours. I did manage to get close enough to barely see his head through my longest camera lens. I could hear his voice. but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Although the war in Iraq and other things would eventually make me adamantly opposed to about 95 percent of the Bush administration’s policies, I still think it was pretty neat to hear the president speak on the 4^th of July at Independence Hall. And, after he was done, I got my chance to tour the hall and see Liberty Bell. I returned to Pennsylvania two days later, after my quick trip to New Jersey and New York, and drove west across the length of the Keystone State, stopping only to spend a few hours at Gettysburg Battlefield. Even 138 years later there was a sense of solemnity to the land where the horrific Battle of Gettysburg killed thousands of soldiers.

Rhode Island — In the New Hampshire entry, I said I enjoyed something in every state during my 2006 trip there with my mom. For Rhode Island that means chicken nuggets. That’s right. The only thing I did in Rhode Island was drive and eat chicken nuggets from Wendy’s. By the time we reached the Ocean State, we were just in a hurry to get to the next stop. And since Rhode Island is so small, it went by quickly. Welp, that’s my Rhode Island story.

South Carolina — Like Kentucky, I’ve driven through South Carolina few times without really stopping to do much. Also, like Kentucky, it has had the bad fortune of simply being in the middle of my destinations, so it’s been relegated to drive-through-state status. I do hope to actually spend some quality time in the Palmetto State at some point. My first trip was during the marathon 17-hour drive mentioned in the Kentucky entry. In fact, it was the reason for the drive. I had not yet been to either Georgia or South Carolina when I left Florida in July 2004, so I obviously had to visit while I was in that corner of the country. After waking up in Savannah that first night, I drove north into South Carolina before curving westward toward St. Louis. I also made the unfortunate decision to sit on my wallet for 17 hours, which did something to my sciatic nerve and I had to sit on a pillow while driving for a few months after that. Thanks, South Carolina.

South Dakota — In 1997, I was doing a lot of growing up. I had graduated from high school that spring, and I started college in the fall. Shortly thereafter, I turned in paperwork to serve as a missionary for the LDS Church. While awaiting the news of where I might be serving, my dad and I decided to take one last father-and-son road trip before I was gone for two years. We picked a destination neither of us had visited: the Black Hills of South Dakota. It was just a quick weekend trip, since I did have classes and such, but we packed a lot into a few days. Our first stop was Mount Rushmore at night. I vividly remember rounding a bend in the road and seeing the profile of George Washington glowing above us. We returned the next day to see the iconic sculpture in the daytime before a full day of exploring that took us through a gorgeous canyon and across Badlands National Park with a stop at the infamous Wall Drug. To this day, though, my dad still raves about the sight of Washington in profile at night. I guess it’s appropriate that South Dakota is simply called the Mount Rushmore State. All of this, of course, leaves me deeply conflicted. While I had a wonderful time visiting Mt. Rushmore with my father, I also know it was carved into a site held sacred by the original occupants of that land. And as awe-inspiring as this sculpture is, the fact that the heads of four white men defaced that site makes me a little sick.

Tennessee — I’ve had two significant trips to the Volunteer State, including a family outing in Nashville, where we visited the Grand Ole Opry and the Country Music Hall of Fame. But the most memorable was definitely my Memphis stay during the big 2001 cross-country road trip. In fact, the National Press Photographers Association convention there was the primary reason for that trip. I stayed at the historic Peabody Hotel, where ducks parade daily through the lobby. I visited the Memphis Rock and Soul Museum and drove past Graceland. But my favorite part was a homeless man named Gino who gave me one fantastic tour of downtown Memphis. I was just wandering down the famous Beale Street when he struck up a conversation with me. Soon, he was telling me all about the musical history of Beale Street and all the legends he had seen play there, from B.B. King to Elvis. When we walked past the Lorraine Motel, where the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in 1968, Gino’s tone quickly took on a hushed reverence, and he told me about the time he heard Dr. King speak.

Texas — The Lone Star state is so big and so diverse that my various trips through Texas have been such entirely different experiences. I first visited there on that 1995 trip where I stayed with my Uncle Quinn in Houston. That was the first time I swam in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico near Padre Island. And I was as much impressed by the Riverwalk in San Antonio as I was unimpressed by the Alamo. Years later I would get my first glimpse of Mexico across the Rio Grande while touring Big Bend National Park. And one of my favorite Texas stops is the quirky Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo. Yet it’s Austin where I learned to love Texas. Every few years, a group of friends from the Ricks College newspaper staff meets up in a different location for what we call the Green Party. In 2013 it was the Austin area. The capital of Texas is my kind of city with its eclectic art scene, some tasty food trucks (like Torchy’s Tacos!) and, of course, its live music. Watching 1.5 million bats emerge from beneath the Congress Avenue Bridge at sunset was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. But what surprised me was how much I enjoyed touring the Texas Capitol. I even felt a bit of Lone Star pride after seeing the love for state Texans have put into this grand building. I even took Cammie back there in 2016 on our anniversary road trip.

Utah — Where do I begin? I’ve easily explored the Beehive State more than any other. And that’s not just because I had a driver license during 13 of the 19 years I lived there (as opposed to only nine of the 19 years I lived in Idaho). During those 13 years of adulthood in Utah, I was actually paid to explore the state. Part of my job as a features writer at The Spectrum included outdoors and travel writing. I keep maps with all the roads marked in that I have driven, and Utah has very few miles of highway untouched by my pen. Additionally, I’ve explored hundreds of miles of backroads and trails throughout the state. I could easily write an entire book on exploring Utah, and many of my former readers often asked me to do so. That still leaves me with the problem of what to write for this short essay that is already nearly as long as many of the other entries. But, I guess I should write about how it all started. It was the summer of 1996, and, as usual, we were traveling to Cedar City, where I was born, to visit my grandparents for a couple of weeks. I got it into my head that I wanted to take the family minivan and go off on a solo road trip throughout southern Utah and the Four Corners Region for four days and three nights. I was 17. And they let me do it. Yeah, I had to call and check in every night, which was difficult in the desolate Four Corners region and without a cell phone. I was armed with four new CDs (Jars of Clay’s self-titled debut, Metallica’s “Load,” Jann Arden’s “Living Under June” and a DGC Records sampler), my camera and a sense of adventure. While I also took in Arizona and visited both Colorado and New Mexico for the first time, most of my time was spent in southern Utah, including stops at Hovenweep National Monument, Natural Bridges National Monument, Capitol Reef National Park, Bryce National Park and Zion National Park. I was hooked. I had discovered what has become my favorite hobby: taking scenic drives (especially to places I’ve never been) to take photos and listen to great music along the way. And it was Utah that gave it to me.

Vermont — There is probably no other state that is better described as idyllic. When I think back on my 2006 trip to New England with my mom, my memories of the Green Mountain State are always tranquil. I think the colors of the leaves were even bolder in Vermont than the other states of New England. Or maybe the lighting was just better for us there. And everywhere we went, there was a sense of peace, from the small State Capitol building in Montpelier to the pastoral setting of the Joseph Smith Birthplace near the town of Sharon, which I supposed could be considered something of a pilgrimage site. It’s the picturesque town of Stowe that gave me my greatest Vermont adventure. As my mom shopped around the unique businesses, I looked at a number of photo books and postcards, noticing that most of them featured a great shot of town from a higher vantage point. When I began asking about it, the locals refused to give precise directions. Apparently, every tourist wants this shot. Since my mom was still shopping, I decided to find it on my own. I used the placement of a little white church in the photograph to determine which direction to go and started from there. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I found a place to pull over that had some trails winding through the trees. I tried a number of potential lookout spots, but branches blocked my shot in every one. Finally, as I was just about to give, I tried one last trail. Suddenly, the view opened up and there it was: Stowe, Vermont, laid out before me, surrounded in autumn colors with the little white church right in the center. Perfect.

Virginia — Even though I said the best bits of the Blue Ridge Parkway were located in North Carolina, that doesn’t mean Virginia was lacking in any way. That Old Dominion stretch of the parkway is still prettier than 99.5 percent of the other highways across the nation. While my memories of the 2001 road trip have faded some, I do distinctly remember a stately old mill alongside the road, and I believe that was after I crossed the state line into Virginia. A sharper memory focuses not as much on the scenic details but the feelings that I had as I cruised along at 45-55 miles per hour that day (as a parkway managed by the National Park Service, the speed limit is 45, or at least it was in 2001). I clearly remember listening to the gently energetic and uplifting folk-pop of Peter Breinholt near the last leg of the journey. It was one of those times where music and landscape seemed to synchronize, creating a single memory filled with cinematic feel that combines sense of place with its own soundtrack.

Washington — Because I lived within a few miles of the Washington state line for three years while attending the University of Idaho, it’s another state I’ve explored extensively. It’s also among my favorites. I think my first visit was a family trip to Seattle when I was a child. The Space Needle was an obvious highlight. After moving to Moscow, trips to both Spokane and Seattle became commonplace for everything from concerts to shopping. I also spent many hours exploring the Washington side of the Palouse, which is just as pretty as the Idaho side mentioned in that entry. But my favorite place in the Evergreen State is the Olympic Peninsula, which is dominated by Olympic National Park. While I absolutely love Zion and Death Valley national parks, Olympic is probably my favorite. The diversity of misty mountains, natural beaches and shrouded rainforests is just hard to beat. The first time I stepped into one of the parks temperate rainforests, I felt as if I had entered a cathedral or some other place of worship. That day, the Hoh rainforest gave me a place to worship the wonder of God’s creation. I later returned to Olympic National Park on my way to another Green Party trip with my college friends (Seattle was our destination this time) and spent a magical night at the edge of the Quinault Rainforest. It was April and a late spring snow had fallen earlier in the day, dusting the tops of the tree-blanketed mountains with white powder. The sun broke through the clouds as it set, illuminating the white mountains, green forests and blue lakes, creating one of the most exquisite scenes I’ve ever witnessed.

West Virginia — My first two visits to West Virginia were uneventful. In 2001 I simply passed through about 20 miles of it, only pulling off the freeway at a rest stop so I could say I had feet on the ground in West Virginia. Eight years later I watched a dumb movie just across the Virginia state line, but I didn’t even realize we were in West Virginia until we were back in regular Virginia. And that was one of the least strange things about that trip. Thankfully, my third West Virginia experience was much better. Plus, I got to see why it’s known as the Mountain State. Yeah, West Virginia’s mountains are kind of puny compared to what we’re accustomed to in the West, but they sure are pretty. Cammie and I spent a few hours driving through them in 2016 on our anniversary road trip and we enjoyed every second of it. Unfortunately, it was a long driving day, so we didn’t have much of a chance to pull over and enjoy the verdant beauty. I hope we’ll get another chance.

Wisconsin — The Badger State was one of the four Midwest states still on my “to-visit” list in 2004 on my way home from Florida. My big plans called for getting to Lake Superior in time for sunset, especially since I had never seen any of the Great Lakes at that point. I was on schedule until my “check engine” light turned on just outside of Madison. Now, 14 years later, I don’t remember what was wrong, but it cost me an hour or two, so the sun had gone down by the time I reached the shoreline of Lake Superior. At least it was still twilight and I was able to see one of the Great Lakes. I don’t remember if I even got a good photograph, so I’m guessing the light was not great by that point. Maybe I’ll make it back someday.

Wyoming — Growing up just across the Wyoming state line in southeast Idaho, my childhood included many trips to Jackson Hole, Grand Teton National Park and Yellowstone National Park, though I didn’t visit the parks as often as I wish I had. Jackson Hole was a favorite family getaway, especially right after we moved to Idaho and my dad was still building up his business, so we didn’t have much money. I didn’t realize how poor we were at the time. All I know is that I had fun seeing the art galleries, watching the elk at the wildlife refuge and eating picnics with my family. In high school, my friends Breezy, Wes, Aarin and I did a day trip through Yellowstone and Jackson Hole in my dad’s new red Camaro. That day of teenage dreams is still among my most treasured memories. In college, I returned to Jackson a couple of times for concerts by what was then my favorite band, The Samples. One particularly fun Jackson excursion was a spur-of-the-moment trip with my friend Bonnie when we were attending Ricks College. A few years later, I had a special, day-long trip through Yellowstone and Jackson with my Grandpa Cowan, who helped me get out of a speeding ticket in the park. Most recently I visited Jackson with Cammie as we stayed with our friend Manjola, who now lives there. During that trip, I did some solo exploring in Grand Teton National Park and came away with some lovely autumn photos of the famous Moulton Barn. One thing I just noticed while writing this is that all of my favorite memories of the Equality State were with people I love, from family members to many of my best friends. That’s pretty neat.

It’s been quite the ride since Sept. 14.

On that stormy day in St. George, I drove to work listening to The National’s “Sleep Well Beast.” Lightning was crashing all around and I remember thinking, “It will be really strange if I’m laid off today.” I knew layoffs were scheduled. Unfortunately, that has become a normal part of the employment in the journalism world lately. But I never thought it would be me. After all, complaints about the newspaper for which I worked were common but most people seemed to enjoy my contributions to that newspaper, even if they were unhappy with it overall.

Yes, I was probably a little cocky — even prideful. Perhaps I would have been better prepared for what happened if I hadn’t been so prideful.

It’s amazing how well I remember the next few hours. Aside from meeting and marrying my wife, it was the most impactful few hours of my life since I had first accepted a job with The Spectrum & Daily News 13 years earlier. There were three layoffs that day. I was the second one. It remains a surreal experience in my memory.

The coming weeks were filled with mourning, words of comfort from friends and family, the excitement of new opportunities, reflections on my goals in life, and a few fun projects, including my photography exhibit at Dixie State University.

I began applying for jobs in Southern Utah and throughout the country. Most were in the public relations realm. And I started doing more freelance work, including photography, writing, and editing. No matter what happened, I began making plans for more of that type of work on the side.

Eventually organizations began to call and offer interviews. With each one, there was excitement for something new. Southern Utah University presented a chance to move into higher education and some of the perks associated with that. The Cedar City-Brian Head Tourism Bureau was enticing with the potential of working in the Southern Utah outdoors I love so much. And Dixie State University was my “sure thing.” Obviously, I know nothing should be a sure thing until there’s an actual job offer, but it sounded like the job was mine to lose.

When the “sure thing” fell through, my world crashed down again. I began to wonder if I need to look at seasonal employment at Target to get me through.

But then I went on a walk with my love and she convinced me I had the drive and talent to start my own business doing writing, editing, publicity and photography. I talked with my accountant, my self-employed father, and my self-employed, LLC-owning father-in-law, who all helped me realize I could do it. And so Em Dash LLC was born.

In the midst of all of this, I was still on state unemployment, which required me to make four significant job contacts per week. Only one really stood out to me during this time: a position as public relations specialist for Scottsdale Arts in Arizona. Even then, I had mentally moved on to starting my own business and was just preparing for the big launch.

However, my resume and writing samples stood out to the folks at Scottsdale Arts, so we set up a telephone interview. When that went well, I made plans to meet with them in Scottsdale a few days before Christmas.

Well, that in-person interview was even better. They liked me and I liked them. Today, I accepted an offer to work as a PR specialist there.

I’ll be doing public relations for the Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts, Scottsdale Public Arts (including the Canal Convergence and Scottsdale Arts Festival events), and education programs associated with both. Additionally, I may help out from time to time with Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art, which is under the umbrella organization of Scottsdale Arts. Even before my layoff, my dream job was doing public relations for an arts organization. So, career-wise, this is a perfect fit.

I am sad about leaving Southern Utah. The St. George area has become my home. I love the red rock, the opportunities Southern Utah has provided me, and, most of all, the people. Cammie and I will miss so many of you.

I’m particularly sad to leave behind the Big Brothers Big Sisters organization, where I’ve been a Big Brother mentor for more than 13 years and where I’ve served on the board for seven years. It was my honor to serve as chairman of the board for more than three years. I’ll especially miss my “little brothers,” Jeremiah and Nathan. I’m also sad about leaving behind the BackTrek charity hikes I started through The Spectrum and continued after my layoff. But I’m glad to say I helped raise more than $10,000 for various organizations in the community through those hikes. I’ll miss the BackTrekkers who supported them, including many who became good friends.

Yet, the move to Phoenix will provide more than just a job for me. It will be positive for Cammie’s job as well. She’s actually been working for a charter school network based in Phoenix since she moved to Southern Utah when we were engaged. She’s had to travel to Phoenix monthly since that time. This will eliminate that travel for her and allow her to have in-person interactions with her colleagues.

As for Em Dash LLC, it’s still happening. I will continue to do writing, editing, publicity and photography for clients on the side, as time allows and as long as there are no conflicts of interest with my position at Scottsdale Arts, which will, of course, be my primary focus. I already have a few clients that will likely keep me busy in the coming weeks, especially as we prepare to move and sell our condo. But after I get situated in Arizona, I may be able to take on more projects, especially with editing.

My start date is Jan. 22. Though the next few weeks will be busy, I hope to get a chance to see some of you and say goodbye. We might even look into finding a place for a little farewell get-together.

Sadly, this blog will not be able to continue covering the arts of Southern Utah as I’ve tried to do in past months. I’ll be sorry to see the local theater reviews go. I’m thankful for the opportunity I’ve had to continue those after my layoff and I appreciate the continued support from the local arts community. However, I do plan to continue this blog with writings about the arts and the outdoors. We’ll see where it goes.

Thank you again, Southern Utah, for all you’ve given me. This region has molded me into who I am today. Thank you for your support and your love. And, as I always said to those who contacted me about articles in the newspaper, thanks for reading.

— Brian

Jennifer Byrne as Sleeping Beauty, Jordan Aragon as Jack, Hannah Record as Cinderella, Courtney Capek as Pinocchio, and Aléna Watters as Snow White. Photo courtesy of Tuacahn.

“Fairy Tale Christmas” is, perhaps, one of the most creative productions to ever grace a Southern Utah stage. That’s saying a lot for a region that is home to both Tuacahn Center for the Arts and the Utah Shakespeare Festival. It’s even more impressive because Tuacahn’s current production of “Fairy Tale Christmas” is a world premiere.

This is the first full production of the new musical, which previously appeared at the New York International Fringe Festival and Tuacahn’s own New Works Festival. The book was written by M. Scott McLean while the music and lyrics were written by M. Scott McLean and his father, Michael McLean, who is probably best known for his beloved musical, “The Forgotten Carols.”

It’s a story about heroes and villains, many of whom will be familiar to children and adults alike. But because it’s Christmastime, those legendary fairytale characters will be transported to the North Pole, where they interact with Santa Claus, of course.

DeMone as Santa. Photo courtesy of Tuacahn.

We first meet the fairytale villains as they begin to hatch a plan to hijack Christmas and destroy the concept of “happily ever after.” Thankfully, Santa has some heroic friends like Cinderella, Snow White and Pinocchio to help him out.

There probably aren’t enough positive adjectives out there to fully encapsulate “Fairy Tale Christmas.” It’s fun and captivating and sweet. It even has surprising depth, offering moments that can be quite moving.

While it takes place in the North Pole, the production inside Tuacahn High School’s indoor Hafen Theatre is quite cozy. This isn’t a high school production, though. All seven actors are Equity professionals and it shows. There’s even a live orchestra that is so good, it sounds as if the actors are singing along to studio tracks.

Even though the first number, “South Side Outside,” was slightly noisy on Tuesday (perhaps the sound balance was off at first?), it’s still a dynamic and catchy opener — benefitting, like every other musical number, from director/choreographer Jeffry Denman’s brilliant machinations. The actors’ timing, blocking and dancing was practically flawless, showing Denman’s skills in bringing it all together.

Hannah Record as Singing Elf, Aléna Watters as Singing Elf, and Jennifer Byrne as Singing Elf. Photo courtesy of Tuacahn.

By the time three of the villains turn into elves before your eyes, the show will have won you over. Not only do the villains play elves; they also play the heroes. With only seven actors in the production, each of them play a number of roles.

The creativity behind this is part of the fun. Their outstanding costumes, by Dustin Cross, are designed in such a way that they quickly transform between hero and villain — essentially putting twice the number of characters on stage than actual actors.

Songs like “Sweet Revenge” are instant classics, full of both hooks and humor. Meanwhile, story elements like skunk jerky and characters like Telegram Stan or Larry Pinecone give the musical a quirky vibe and potential to become a cult classic.

However, this musical deserves much more than cult classic status. It’s more entertaining in its short 1.5-hour run time (with no intermission) than most Broadway-level musicals. It’s really something of a Christmas miracle.

The acting and singing is top-notch. There’s not a weak link among them. It’s not even possible to pull out one or two standout roles because they are all so equally good.

Jordan Aragon convincingly portrays a sympathetic anti-hero in Rumplestiltskin while also becoming a break-dancing Jack (of “Beanstalk” fame).

Matt Ban plays the engagingly gruff Giant (also of said “Beanstalk” fame) while also getting his loveably over-the-top Gepetto on. But that’s not all, he’s also the elf Larry Pinecone and, impressively, a variety of princely characters. It’s even difficult to decide which of Ban’s six or seven characters is the best.

Jennifer Byrne gives us Agatha, the wicked stepmother, with her fantastically exaggerated choreography and diction while also playing the narcoleptic Sleeping Beauty and a singing elf.

Jordan Aragon as Kevin Snickerdoodle and Courtney Capek as Imogene. Photo courtesy of Tuacahn.

Courtney Capek is the heart of the play, giving us the sweet elf Imogene and the equally sweet little Pinocchio, while also portraying Belle and another singing elf.

DeMone is our tour guide through this fantasyland as the tavern owner Barnaby while also playing the small parts of Magic Mirror and Harold the Herald. Yet it’s his soulful Santa Claus that proves to me most memorable, especially with catchphrases like, “Sweet frosty marzipan!”

Hannah Record plays a stereotypical evil monarch as Drama Queen. Additionally, she’s another singing elf and Cinderella, who appears to be the leader of the hero characters. Yet it’s her short stint as Telegram Stan that will have the tears of laughter rolling down your face.

Finally, Aléna Watters gives us the Maleficent-like Medoza and Snow White, while also proving to be the most memorable of the singing elves, thanks to a hilarious, cartoonish accent.

Technically, it’s a brilliant production as well. Brad Shelton did his normally excellent work on the set design, but it’s enhanced by an inventive use of video projection to change sets within milliseconds. Even better are the enchanting flying scenes in Santa’s sleigh. This is next-level technical theater.

Whether you’re singing along with Santa on “Dream Sleigh” (“It’s powered by reindeer poo”) or breakin’ it down with DJ Crownz (Prince Charming’s side job, apparently), “Fairy Tale Christmas” is a whole lot of fun.

It’s not all entertainment though. Part of the storyline rests on Santa’s decision to give presents to all the children of the world, not just the “good kids,” because every child has goodness. And, ultimately, it’s not a story about heroes and villains; it’s a story about people — people who are complicated and nuanced and, yes, maybe even deserving of a little redemption.

All of this comes together to create a clever theatrical production that is just as magical as it is joyful. It’s too bad the Christmas theme will likely relegate a “Fairy Tale Christmas” to a certain time of year because it’s a story for all seasons.

“Fairy Tale Christmas” continues every Monday through Saturday until Dec. 30 (with the exception of Dec. 25 and 26) with showtimes at 7:30 p.m. each day and 4 p.m. matinees on Fridays and Saturdays. It is staged in the indoor Hafen Theatre at Tuacahn High School, 1100 Tuacahn Drive, Ivins. Tickets are $29-$39. Visit Tuacahn.org or call 800-746-9882.

Hannah Record as Drama Queen, Matt Ban as Giant, Aléna Watters as Medoza, and Jennifer Byrne as Agatha. Photo courtesy of Tuacahn.

Well, color me plaid. And color me surprised. I really enjoyed “Plaid Tidings” at Brigham’s Playhouse on Saturday night.

Typically, I try to refrain from first-person subjectivity in my theater reviews, but I wanted to admit up front that I wasn’t interested in seeing “Plaid Tidings.” Honestly, I’m not sure why, but the basic plot of the musical and its non-holiday predecessor, “Forever Plaid,” have never appealed to me.

Now, however, I’m sure am glad I saw “Plaid Tidings.”

No, there’s not much of a plot. It’s maybe a slight step up from “Cats” in that regard. But when it comes to jukebox musicals (like “Mamma Mia!”), it’s not about the plot. It’s about the music. And in that regard, “Plaid Tidings” delivers and then some.

“Plaid Tidings” features four velvet-voiced singers: Nathan Benner as Jinx, Doug Knapp as Smudge, Greg Knell as Frankie, and Brant Wadsworth as Sparky. All four sing beautifully. They are the key to this production’s success. Since the plot of the play is primarily a concert, if those doing the singing weren’t any good, it wouldn’t be worth seeing.

Luckily for us they are quite good. Backing them musically is pianist Tami Creamer and electric bassists Dave Wayt. It’s surprising just how much sound can come from only two instruments. Even though many musicals feature a full orchestra, “Plaid Tidings” never feels like its missing anything musically.

Creamer and Wayt provide a perfect background for the Plaids’ effervescent harmonies. Not only do these guys sing beautifully, but they also bring a lot of heart and humor to their roles, whether they are acting, singing or dancing.

In fact, the choreography is a large part of the production’s humor (that hip action in “Besame Mucho/Kiss of Fire”!). Huzzah to choreographer Mimi Knell, who also directed the musical, for the jubilant, entertaining and even, at times, dynamic dancing.

It’s all so much fun that it’s easy to forget there is a slight plot moving the show forward. The book for “Plaid Tidings” was written by Stuart Ross while the music was arranged by James Raitt, Brad Ellis, Raymond Berg and David Snyder.

The basics are easy: The Plaids are still dead, after getting their second chance to play a show during the events of “Forever Plaid.” This time around, they come down from heaven to play a Christmas concert. However, they are a little slow on the uptake, so it takes them some time to figure out why all this holiday music is getting mixed up in their normal oeuvre.

This little plot twist actually makes for a more diverse experience. It’s not just the same old Christmas songs we hear all the time during this season. No, in “Plaid Tidings” those songs are not only jazzed up for a four-part male vocal quartet but they are also mixed in with an eclectic kick of non-holiday songs.

Pop culture references add another level of fun to the production. Just wait until you see the Michael Jackson-style “Twuz the Night B4 Christmas.”

Yes, the first half is a little heavy on exposition and there were a few prop mishaps during the Saturday night performance, but for every minor negative there are at least nine positives — like the colored-coded Christmas bells and the visual pleasure of the Plaids trying to do all the crazy talents and stunts from an early 1960s episode of “The Ed Sullivan Show.”

One of the standout positives of every production at Brigham’s Playhouse is the atmosphere there. This little community theater has something special. Part of it is the dessert menu and how they do giveaways at the beginning of each performance (those apple-caramel cookies are delicious). But it’s difficult to really put a finger on exactly what it is that creates this charming atmosphere. Most likely, it’s a mixture of many things and the overall heart the cast and crew bring to each production.

Either way, Playhouse producer Jamie Young told Saturday’s audience that it cost $48,000 alone just to secure the rights for next year’s season, which includes “The Big Five-Oh” (Jan. 11-Feb. 17), “Daddy Longlegs” (Feb. 23-Mar. 24), “Our Town” (Mar. 30-April 28), “Bye Bye Birdie” (May 10-June 16), “South Pacific” (Aug. 23-Sept. 29), Agatha Christie’s “Murder on the Nile” (Oct. 11-Nov. 17) and “A Christmas Carol” (Nov. 23-Dec. 30).

If you enjoy theater, get out there and support this community gem. There’s still a chance to see “Plaid Tidings,” which begins at 7 p.m. every Thursday, Friday and Saturday through Dec. 30 (with Saturday matinees at 2 p.m.) at 25 N. 300 West #C1 in Cottontown Village, Washington City. Tickets are $17-$23. Visit BrighamsPlayhouse.com or call 435-251-8000.

Photo courtesy of St. George Musical Theater

It’s the cult Christmas movie. It has become a holiday classic on par with “It’s a Wonderful Life.” The lead character is absolutely iconic — a child of myth and legend.

This all makes any production of “A Christmas Story: The Musical” a high bar to meet.

But who better to helm a holiday musical based on a beloved cult classic than a movie buff? The movie buff in question is Adam Mast, a man known to Southern Utahns as a film critic for The Independent and they guy behind most of the fun film events around town, like the Guerrilla Filmmaking Challenge.

It’s obvious there is a love for the source material in St. George Musical Theater’s current production of “A Christmas Story: The Musical” with book by Joseph Robinette and music and lyrics by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul. And there’s a love for the source material in the audience, which greets all of the famous lines with laughter and/or applause.

“It’s a major award!”

“Fragile (‘fra-gee-lay’); it must be Italian!”

“My father worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay.”

Some of the most famous lines have entire songs built around them, like “You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out” and “Red Ryder Carbine Action BB Gun.” And most of these songs are as charming as the story itself.

There are no show-stopping vocals performances here and at times the cast struggles to stay in-sync vocally and choreographically, but their shortcomings are easily overlooked by the overall enjoyability of the production.

Unlike some musicals that seem overly bloated with singing and dancing, “A Christmas Story” has just the right amount. While the songs don’t necessarily move the plot forward, they add to the overall charm with the catchy tunes and Hollie Reina’s choreography enhances the musical numbers, especially on “A Major Award.”

Photo courtesy of St. George Musical Theater

Prop masters Suzan Ort and Cyndi Stueben also did a fine job bringing elements of the film to this theater-in-the-round production through iconic pieces like the infamous leg lamp (“electric sex”), the slide from the department store Santa scene and, of course, a Red Ryder Carbine Action BB Gun.

But the success of any production of “A Christmas Story” will always come down to one element: Ralphie.

The boy is not only the center of the story, he’s also the heart of the story. SGMT’s current production has double cast Ralphie and his friend, Flick, with Will Haley and Gabriel Layton. Friday night’s production, reviewed here, featured Haley as Ralphie and Layton as Flick. If Layton is half as good as Haley in the lead role, then it’s a solid production all around.

It’s a good thing Haley plays Ralphie because otherwise he would probably be stealing all the scenes. The kid is a natural. While his voice breaks at times, it’s natural for someone his age. More importantly, he manages to stay in key while remaining easily understandable. He’s another large part of the production’s charm. Haley is just absolutely endearing, especially during numbers like “Ralphie to the Rescue.”

Photo courtesy of St. George Musical Theater

The role of Flick is significantly smaller, so Friday’s audience was not able to see much of Layton. However, he does bring a few laughs during and after the famous tongue-on-flagpole incident.

Helping child Ralphie anchor the production is Brad Christensen as the narrator. His calming voice and easy presence make him perfect for the role.

Rounding out the cast is Ralphie’s family with his father, or the “Old Man,” played by Roy Eckman; his mother played by Barb Christensen; and his little brother, Randy, played by Jacob Cumming. All deliver their parts well. Even though Cumming’s character is essentially a prop in many of the scenes, he proves to be expertly malleable.

Photo courtesy of St. George Musical Theater

Eckman’s character is known for his profanity, which has been softened from the film for SGMT’s family-friendly audience. While his speech is still characterized with all sorts of expletives, they are primarily of the made-up variety and still manage to maintain harmony with the tenor of the show.

Meanwhile, Barb Christensen, fresh off her brilliant physical comedy as Dotty/Mrs. Clackett in SGMT’s “Noises Off,” brings yet another physically hilarious role to life as Ralphie’s mom. She also brings much of the tenderness to the show.

Ultimately, it’s still Ralphie’s story and this idea is enforced in the second half as Mast deftly directs a sweet moment between the lead character and his little brother, leading perfectly toward the tuneful “Somewhere Hovering Over Indiana” and, eventually, the gentle title song.

Mast knows his movies and he knows this story well enough to know it succeeds best when it not only maintains the film’s nostalgic sweetness but also when it embraces the novel campiness of the source material.

This Christmas season, instead of watching the film for the Nth time, support the local arts and check out a stage version instead. But you better hurry since there are only a few more days available to see the show.

St. George Musical Theater will perform “A Christmas Story: The Musical” two more times today, Saturday, Dec. 9, with a matinee at 2 p.m. and an evening show at 7:30 p.m. Additional showings are 7:30 p.m. Monday, Dec. 11; Thursday, Dec. 14; Friday, Dec. 15; and Saturday, Dec. 16. All performances are staged in the round at the St. George Opera House, 212. N. Main St., St. George. Tickets are $17-$21. Visit sgmusicaltheater.com.

Even though I’ve been regularly visiting Brigham City for three years now, I hadn’t been to Golden Spike National Historic Site in nearly a decade and I had never seen the Spiral Jetty. That all changed last week while visiting my in-laws for Thanksgiving.

Cammie grew up in Brigham City so we visit her family there at least three or four times a year. While I’m getting to know the town better, I hadn’t ventured much further than the city limits, aside from regular trips to Logan while staying in Brigham. This time around, our friend Manjola was visiting from Jackson Hole and I thought she might be interested in heading out to Golden Spike, which is located about 30 miles west of Brigham.

I seem to have the bad luck of only visiting Golden Spike National Historic Site during the winter, which is, unfortunately, the time of the year that the old steam locomotives are stored inside. Plus, the golden spike itself is not even on display. So, visually, the historic site doesn’t offer much. Yes, there’s a stark beauty to the surrounding high desert landscape but all you’re going to see is a set of train tracks.

However, there’s still plenty of history to be had. After all, this spot marks a major achievement in transportation in the United States. When two rail lines met there on May 10, 1869, it linked the east and the west. Transcontinental railroad travel was a reality. This change the face of westward migration and settlement in the western United States. The onsite museum, information signage and films all tell the story of this history.

The history at Golden Spike is fascinating but we were all a little a more excited about visiting the Spiral Jetty since none of us had been there. Plus, if you make it to Golden Spike NHS, you’re halfway there. The jetty is located about 16 miles south of the NHS on the northern shore of the Great Salt Lake. While it’s only 16 miles, it’s a gravel road so you’ll only average 30-40 miles per hour, so it takes nearly 30 minutes to get there from Golden Spike but it’s well worth the drive. Just make sure to slow down for approaching vehicles since it’s a narrow road and you don’t want to flip gravel at each other.

As we arrived at the parking lot, we could see the jetty jutting out onto the sand/salt flats around the lake. Depending on water levels, the lake sometimes surrounds the jetty or even submerges it. However, for our visit the shoreline was still a few hundred feet beyond the jetty, making it easy to walk out and around the art installation.

Art installation? Yep, it’s an “earthwork sculpture,” according to a sign above the parking lot. It’s also apparently considered to be the “central work” of sculptor Robert Smithson, who constructed it in April of 1970, three years before his death. It was constructed with mud, salt crystals, basalt rocks and water, forming a 1,300-foot-long and 13-foot-wide coil extending from the elevated land on the north shore of the lake into a counterclockwise spiral.

While the jetty itself is captivating, its setting can be quite interesting as well. Since it’s built on a lakebed, the landscape is a mix of sand and salt, creating natural artwork like the salt designs above.

Manjola, Cammie and I continued past the jetty to the waters edge, where we spent some time just taking in the beautiful surroundings.

The light was pretty spectacular. It was a mostly cloudy day, but the sun shone through in parts, illuminating some areas and creating some spectacular scenes.

While it was difficult too look beyond the panoramic vistas, closer inspection of the details also held rewards, especially in those spots where water, salt and sand all met and were transformed by light.

It was also fun to watch others enjoying the beauty and to see how the landscape literally reflected their presence.

Eventually we made our way back toward the jetty itself, which we continued to explore. It’s difficult to photograph up close because you have to see it from above to fully appreciate the design. But I was able to find a few angles that give the general idea.

Cammie and Manjola then headed for the car while I decided to climb up the hill north of the jetty for a few better shots, including the one at the top of this post and the photo above. I didn’t even have to get that high for these shots. But I did see a few people at the top of the ridge and I’m sure their perspective was pretty spectacular. Now I just need to make it back sometime when the water is around the jetty so I can see the natural and man-made beauty of water and sculpture meet.

This is a big deal.

While non-painters may not be familiar with the Oil Painters of America, this 3,600-member group is one of the leading art organizations in the nation and it’s bringing its Western Regional Exhibition to Utah for the first time. And Illume Gallery of Fine Art in St. George is the host gallery.

In fact, Illume’s arrival in St. George is something of a big deal itself. Owners Jane Bell Meyer and Mark C. Lundgren initially opened Illume at City Creek Center in Salt Lake City a few years back. Jane has been a mover and shaker on the St. George Art Scene for about a decade now through her other galleries at Ancestor Square: The Mission Gallery and Authentique Gallery of Art & Design. Now Illume has joined them, dominating the northeast corner of Ancestor Square (the southwest corner of the Main Street and 200 North).

Because Illume is new to St. George, its grand opening here will join the opening of the OPA Western Regional Exhibition this Friday at 6 p.m. This opening reception and awards presentation will be centered at Illume, 29 W. 200 North, with a ribbon cutting at 6:15 p.m. and the announcement of awards at about 8 p.m.

What this all means for St. George art lovers is that a whole bunch of nationally recognized artists, whose work is not typically seen in Southern Utah, will have their work on display here until Dec. 9. While Illume is technically the host of the exhibition, OPA pieces will be shown in Authentique and The Mission as well. Each of the galleries will retain a few of their regular artists but the bulk of their normal inventory will be moved to a temporary exhibit space in the tower building at Ancestor Square (where the Painted Pony is located).

It also means St. George is finally getting its spot on the national art map. Not only will the OPA show bring prominent artists from throughout the western states to St. George, it will also bring many of their collectors here. That means some prominent art collectors will also have a chance to discover what Southern Utah has to offer.

In addition to the opening reception, there are a number of other events throughout the weekend. Kanab-based artist Julie Rogers will offer a painting demonstration from 9-11:30 a.m. Friday at Illume followed by another demonstration there from 1:30-4 p.m. by William Schneider, the juror for this year’s exhibition and an OPA signature artist.

On Saturday, OPA member and Tooele resident Rachel Pettit will offer a demonstration from 9-11:30 a.m. followed by a special presentation, “Hot Topics for Artists,” from noon to 1:30 p.m. with Schneider and OPA President John Michael Carter. There is a $10 charge for a deli-style lunch, which gives artists a chance to ask questions of these two prominent OPA members.

Following the lunch presentation, Carter will offer a demonstration with a live model. However, the scheduled model is unable to make it so Illume is searching for someone willing to have their portrait painted and (here’s the catch) then purchase the resulting painting, which could be a value of anywhere between $1,500 and $5,000. So, if you want to have your portrait painted by a fantastic artist (and you have a little spending money), here’s your chance.

Finally, on Sunday morning you just might find some of the artists out painting around Washington County, from Snow Canyon and Pioneer Park to Grafton and Zion from 8 a.m. to noon. This is all on top of the Zion Plein Air event ongoing this entire week out in Zion National Park.

I had a chance to check out the OPA paintings earlier this week while walking through the three galleries. They are already on display and will remain there through Dec. 9. So stop by and check them out.

For more information visit illumegalleryoffineart.com/opa/ or call 801-210-2853.

A few months ago I was attending an informal potluck lunch meeting in the office of Kathy Cieslewicz, the mother of visual arts here in Washington County. Not only is Kathy full of great ideas, she loves making connections among people in the arts. And that day I met Djibril N’Doye, a Senegalese artist who now lives here in Southern Utah.

Djibril passed out fliers that featured a number of his pieces and I was immediately drawn in. So often we see the same types of art here in Southern Utah. While I love red rocks as much as anyone, I deeply appreciate diversity in subject matter, style and media. Djibril’s art delivers on all three accounts. After seeing the fliers, I knew I had to see Djibril’s art in person.

He grew up in a community based on farming, fishing and raising cattle, which became his “school of life,” according to the biography on his Facebook page at facebook.com/djibrilndoyeartist/. During his formative years as an artist, he had a difficult time finding standard art supplies. Even now his tools are simple, “yet unforgiving.”

Some of his pieces are created with only pen and ink, in black and white or color, on paper. My favorite pieces are done with a woodburner on wood, occasionally with additional hues from colored pencils. Apparently using woodburners — or other heated tools — to create art is called pyrography.

In the biography on his website at DjibrilNDoye.com, it says his style of drawing is inspired by sculptures in ebony. Many of his pieces portray common scenes from daily life in West Africa. Djibril came to the United States in 1995 and lived in California before moving to Southern Utah.

Djibril is also a drummer and many of his pieces portray musicians playing traditional African instruments. One of my favorite pieces at his current show at the DiFiore Center in St. George featured a musician playing the balafon, a percussion instrument (above). I personally loved how Djibril illustrated the musician’s movements, instilling this piece and others with such life.

But my favorite piece was “Blanketed Woman” (“La femme en couverture”), shown above. It’s a tribute to his mother, who farmed, mined salt, sold the salt door-to-door and sold mangoes along the roadside and at the railway station. There are elements of cubism and surrealism in the piece. I was captivated by its composition, the elegance of the lines, and its tones.

Other pieces in the show illustrated the practice of salt-mining, which has been part of Djibril’s family life for many generations. While I enjoy the artistic beauty of his work, it’s also fascinating to learn more about Senegalese culture. The exhibit will remain on display at the DiFiore Center, one of my favorite places in St. George, at 307 N. Main St., through the end of November. The center is open from 10 a.m.-4:30 p.m. on Mondays and from 10 a.m.-6 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday. Admission is free. Visit DiFioreCenter.org or call 435-673-4206 for information.

And, if you’re a visual arts lover, get ready for a big announcement from Dixie State University in the coming weeks. It’s related to the mystery crate currently located in the Sears Art Museum Gallery, where the brilliant “Mapping: The Poetics of Utah Expression” is on display through Dec. 8, as well as my own photography show, “Connecting Paths,” in the Eccles Grand Foyer outside the gallery. Both spaces are located in the Eccles Center for the Arts at Dixie State University.

Aside from those rare stormy days when wispy clouds slink through Zion Canyon, my favorite time to visit Zion National Park is during the autumn as the cottonwoods along the Virgin River become bright yellow in the cooling temperatures.

On Saturday I was scheduled to spend the morning in Grafton, where I would be shooting family photos for a former editor of mine at the newspaper. Since the old ghost town near Rockville put me in the Zion neighborhood, I invited my wife to join me for a trip through the park after the photo session.

I arrive early in Grafton to scout out some locations for the photos. This gives me a chance to walk around the buildings and get a few personal photographs along the way. No matter how often I visit this picturesque community, I always find a new scene or even just a composition I haven’t tried before. This time around, it is the back-lit glow of the window in an old cabin.

Fall colors are also a plus for this particular visit and one tree, located in a meadow near the “Etta Place Cabin,” jumps out at me with its bright yellow foliage. The recently reconstructed cabin was where Katharine Ross’ character from the 1969 film “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” lived. Her famous bicycle scene with Paul Newman (Butch Cassidy) was filmed right here in Grafton. In fact, earlier this year I tried to bring Katharine back to Grafton for the first time since she filmed that scene there in 1968. She was in town for The Stage Door‘s two-night production of “Love Letters” with Wilford Brimley at the Electric Theater in February so I offered to show her around. Unfortunately, it had been raining heavily and the road to Grafton was too muddy. But I still played “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” while we attempted to get there.

Following the photo session, we head to Springdale for lunch. State Route 9 through Springdale is in the midst of a major construction project so be prepared for long waits. After a delicious lunch at Oscar’s, we finally make it into the park. Even in late October, Zion is still extremely crowded. The visitor center parking lot is full, as is every other parking spot between the entrance and Zion Canyon. I’m grumpy about crowds, especially in nature, so we scrap our idea of visiting the canyon and decide to return on a weekday with hopes of fewer people.

Instead, we continue along SR 9, up the switchbacks and through the 1.1-mile Zion-Mt. Carmel Tunnel. While the east side of Zion is not known for its fall colors like the canyon, I’m hoping we might still find some nice colors. However, as we emerge from the tunnel I realize the elevation is higher so many of the leaves are past their peak. Still, we decide to visit Petroglyph Canyon to see what it has to offer. Because I don’t trust just anyone who might be reading this, I’m not going to tell you where Petroglyph Canyon is located. But the canyon delivers. While the yellows at this elevation have mostly dimmed or fallen, the reds are at their peak.

It’s common to see red in the rocks around Southern Utah but red leaves are significantly rarer. Petroglyph Canyon provides the opportunity to see both of them together as well as some towering ponderosa pines.

Of course, Petroglyph Canyon also delivers on its name. And this is why I don’t print its location (because some people are horrible human beings and think its OK to deface archeological relics).

While exploring the canyon, I stop to sniff a few trees. That’s right, not only am I literal tree-hugger (I hug ancient bristlecone pines), I’m also a tree-sniffer when it comes to ponderosas. Most here in the Southwest have a sweet scent that ranges from vanilla to butterscotch. There are a number of subspecies and varieties of pinus ponderosa but the one we have in the Four Corners region is subsp. brachyptera.

As for the red leaves, I’m not entirely sure what type of tree produces them. A friend of mine believes it’s the bigtooth maple, acer grandidentatum, also known as the canyon maple. Either way, I feel pretty lucky to see so much of it in Zion. If it wasn’t for the red rock cliffs I might think I was walking through New England.

After leaving Petroglyph Canyon, we decide to continue exploring. So we continue east, out of Zion and toward the Kanab area. After spending some time visiting Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab Canyon (the site of my second-favorite concert experience and a pretty great animal rescue organization), we found ourselves driving through Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park.

I wasn’t too excited about hiking though sand but Cammie convinced me to go for a short walk. I’m glad I did, because photos are much better out on the sand than from the convenience of the viewing platform. All you have to do is get low and simple footprints begin to look like massive dunes.

Yet my favorite shot is partially an accident. The star effect above is on purpose, thanks to a small aperture setting, but the depth of the shadows at this low angle and the light flares surprise me when I look at the image on the back of my camera. I wasn’t looking through the viewfinder when I shot it because I was holding the camera near the ground, so it’s nice to see my experiment pay off.

* All of the photographs in this blog (or anything in the Photography section of BrianPassey.com) are available for purchase. Send an email to brianisawriter@gmail.com to inquire about specific images. Prices for unframed, signed prints are: $25 for an 8×10 or 8×12; $35 for an 11×14 or 11×16; and $45 for a 12×16 or 12×18.

There’s a certain charm to Brigham’s Playhouse.

Part of it is the Washington City theater’s atmosphere, from the quaintly picturesque exterior to the intimate stage and audience area. Part of it is the focus on desserts and how the cast of each production helps sell the treats before the show and during intermission. Then there are the productions themselves, many of which seem to illustrate a certain sense of Americana, small town life or yesteryear.

The playhouse’s current offering is the musical “She Loves Me” (book by Joe Masteroff, music by Jerry Bock and lyrics by Sheldon Harnick). It’s based on the Hungarian playwright Miklós László’s 1937 play “Parfumerie.” However, audiences might know the story best as the 1940 Jimmy Stewart film “The Shop Around the Corner,” the 1949 Judy Garland musical “In the Good Old Summertime” or the 1998 Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan film “You’ve Got Mail.”

It’s basically about two employees at a Budapest parfumerie who do not get along well. Yet they are both members of a “lonely hearts club” and are unknowingly falling in love via anonymous letters to one another.

Actually, it’s somewhat surprising the story has been remade so often. It’s not really a great tale. It has one of those absurd plot twists that shouldn’t result in a full storyline, kind of like “Meet the Parents.”

Part of it is due to changing times. Even William Shakespeare had plenty of absurd plots. “The Comedy of Errors” isn’t exactly his best work. And the plot of “She Loves Me” probably worked much better as “Parfumerie” back in 1937.

Despite that, the songs of “She Loves Me” are mostly pleasant and the cast does a fine job of performing them. Overall, Brigham’s Playhouse puts on a charming performance and directors Jamie Young and Tina Forsyth bring in plenty of fun details.

Tonya Christensen and Doug Knapp have done a masterful job with the set construction. The various pieces are surprisingly ornate, from the inside of the parfumerie to Amalia’s bedroom. Especially intriguing is a scene where one character is telling a story to the side of the stage while the center of the stage — sheathed in a semi-translucent curtain — displays the story she tells.

While some of the supporting cast’s acting is not always the strongest — even overly melodramatic at times — the two leads are strong and charismatic. Dale Hoopes, who shined in Brigham’s Playhouse’s “Murder for Two,” is endearing as shop manager Georg Nowack and Jasmine Anderson brings some operatic vocals to the role of Amalia Balash. Both fill their roles with an affable, easygoing vibe.

Another standout is Ryland Despain as the headwaiter during “A Romantic Atmosphere,” the most entertaining number of the show. Yes, he’s over the top, but hilariously so. Young and Forsyth also directed this scene well, bringing in some creative movements and moments.

Even the supporting cast improves following intermission. The second half is tighter all-around, with less melodrama and even some particularly creative scenes, like the shoe juggling during “Where’s My Shoe?”

The humor is somewhat corny throughout, but that too might be a matter of age. The jokes were likely funnier when the musical premiered on Broadway in 1963. And the audience members who were alive at that time seemed to find plenty of laughs throughout the show.

It may not be for everyone, but the audience Friday night appeared to truly enjoy “She Loves Me.” Even those who don’t enjoy the story will find plenty to like in the direction, set and lead roles.

“She Loves Me” shows at 7 p.m. on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays and 2 p.m. on Saturdays through Nov. 11 at 25 N. 300 West #C1, Washington City. Tickets are $17-23. Visit BrighamsPlayhouse.com or call 435-251-8000.