My Albion Basin Paradise

High in the towering sanctitude of the Wasatch Mountains, overlooking my innocent childhood home, lies a hallowed cirque of life known as Albion Basin. This vast protected space is adorned with boundless swathes of rolling wildflowers in late spring and early summer. A spectacle defying any possibility of my poetic description. After walking through its eye-watering grip and consecrated scent of high-altitude blessedness, I come to fathom our delicate domicile. Our natural reality. We are all wildflowers in similar vibrant mountain meadows of infinite green. Each grows in different varieties, shapes, fragrances, and colors. Each with unique ideas, paths, passions, minds, and sorrows. These differences form a sacred hymn or fabric that offers the whole scene or setting its perfect purpose, beauty, and repose. Even its sheer southern overseer, a blank monolithic massif known as Devils Castle, relinquishes its power to such multi-colored grandeur. All this unique distinction comes from a remarkable splendor only found within its assorted community of color located upon its perch of a harsh alpine environment. We should understand that this accumulated diversity within all of us, whether physical, intellectual, or spiritual—builds a global and dependable foundation for a sense of enduring peace and perpetual joy.