The Cabin
I took a nostalgic trip this week to my dad’s cabin of 50 years. It’s an hour drive from where I live now and is the foundation for a lifetime of memories for me, my dad and two brothers, and my own kids and is what originally brought us to Southern Utah. Dad sold the cabin about seven years ago, and I’d not been back since. It was a peaceful trip to drive the dirt roads that are so familiar—every bend, every view of the surrounding mountains and hillsides like a familiar imprint in my head.
