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Show 5SC I thought of the community I had come from. There was So much similarity between Ed's dream and the l i f e I had known aS a child. Perhaps i t could be recreated, somehow - a community of space and t o l e r a n c e , with room for individual growth. The three of us 'got high' together and wandered through the valley, the canyons, and the mountain d e l l s above the Wasatch Front. Ed had an eye for beauty - - for fine architecture, especially. "These Mormons must r e a l l y be something, holding onto the past. Those far-out buildings !You won't find old houses like this in L.A. - i t was torn down t h i r t y years ago. The people there are crazy, they float around l i k e seaweed. You know, you g o t t a hold onto the past. Something has gotta have a p a s t . " "Yes," I murmured. "Nothing can grow without r o o t s ." -fBrian sat s i l e n t l y , watching us with the eyes of a hawk or eagle. I glowed with Ed's appreciation of my valley, my Zion home. He never t i r e d of hearing about my family: my father, my mothers, my brothers and s i s t e r s . "Phenomenal," he said. "All those people p u l l i n g together." And he loved my mountains. Over the years, my sense of t h e ir beauty had faded ~ the red and orange of mineral-rock and flowers, the purple and azure of stones and streams had a l l gone grey lumps, colors c l o t t e d into t e r r i f y i n g masses threatening to topple and bury me beneath. But now, through Ed's eyes, I saw my mountains in beauty once again. Sd pointed things out to me, as Danny had done when we were children. He delighted in minnows nibbling at his toes and in watching water-skaters race. He t r i e d to name trees |