Tonight I rode my motorcycle up to Sagebrush Flats - it's along the northwest flank of Mount Timpanogos and it's a LOT more green and beautiful than the name makes it sound! We had a little rescue and Life Flight landed to carry our victim out, but the gusty wind triggered some sensor and the helicopter wouldn't start back up. Anyway, while we were sticking around just in case they needed anything from us (another Life Flight helicopter came up to try to fix the first one), I went for a drive to the far end of the road and explored the little spurs leading to more gorgeous meadow campsites, most of which had a car or two parked in them. While driving past one such meadow, a doe and its fawn ran through the meadow, then continued hopping along just inside the aspens bordering the clearing. I slowed down to stay just behind the deer, whose golden fur shone in the dusk light. It was one of those experiences that sticks in your mind and plays again and again. It was one of those moments where you want to be completely present - no thoughts of anything or anywhere else playing and distracting you. Later, after loading the bike on its trailer, as I drove over the Alpine Loop on the way home, I rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof. I drove slowly and watched the tall, white aspen trunks flash by and fade into shadow and darkness. I focused on how I felt to be completely present, noticing my arms as I steered, the breeze across my face, and the crackling of gravel and twigs that crunched in my ears. I need to practice that more. I think far too much. I'm always monitoring so many ideas. Suddenly it all seems like a waste, like a recipe for letting days slip by without even noticing them. Maybe that's why time seems to slip by so much faster as we grow up.