Bluff Settlers:
Morman Pioneer Jens Nielson and his three wives below
On the other hand, I need my sleep. If I do not get a good seven or eight hours rest each night, I get cranky. So you can see how, for me, "springing forward" can cause legitimate concern and chaos. The problem is that I have not been getting up early. I have been trying to work out at night and, because I am so time disoriented, I do not think clearly or feel up to snuff during the day. In my case, lack of adequate sleep, exercise and meditation are a prescription for personal, natural disaster.
So when Steve called an Internet team meeting early Friday morning before we opened the store, I found myself in a hostile frame of mind. I woke up at 6:00 am, which felt exactly like 5:00 am, left the house in Blanding at 7:15 am and started the 26-mile drive to Bluff. It was just getting light, and I had not slept well the night before. I was cussing Steve for his insensitivity to my predicament, and suspected his meeting would not go well because of my foul mood.
Elsie Rasmussen Nielson
As I drove south, however, the beauty of the drastically slanted and dispersed sunlight and graphic landscape began to calm my nerves and revive my senses. I turned off the radio with its dire dissertation of bad news and focused on the magnificence of the natural world surrounding me. One of the wonders of southeastern Utah is that you can drive for miles without seeing anyone or anything other than what nature presents. By the time I pulled into the parking lot of the Twin Rocks trading post, I was in a slightly improved state of mind.
I was a little early, so I went to the cafe and made myself a breakfast beverage braced with caffeine to help solidify my still shaky psyche. Leaving the restaurant, I crossed the porch, rounded Sunbonnet Rock and strode up to the Kokopelli doors. Stopping briefly to sip my bitter brew, I looked south towards the Reservation and noticed the play of light and shadow slowly unfolding along the face of the cliff. I was immediately captivated.
Kirsten Jensen Nielson
Realizing I was standing in front of the sun bleached chairs we leave on the porch for restless husbands, and not wanting to take my eyes off the spectacle revealing itself across the valley, I decided to sit. I blindly reached behind me and found the chair crafted of heavy, weather textured lumber. Sitting back into its coarse embrace, I relaxed to witness the slow, yet relentless unveiling of mineral stained red rock.
While admiring the cliffs, the strata overhead also caught my attention. The clouds appeared frayed, like the heel worn cuffs of a sturdy pair of overlong Levi's. I assumed the winds aloft were crosscurrents of extreme velocity rifts, ripping and tearing the high altitude mist into visually appealing shreds. Not so here in our little Valhalla, the breeze was gentle; the atmosphere calm and peaceful. My eyes were drawn to the strikingly twisted and bent, still barren branches of the Cottonwood trees. The healing effects of the bluffs, clouds and trees brought me back to earth in short order. I felt refreshed and regenerated.
A knocking on the glass brought me back to reality. Looking behind, I recognized Steve's face in the window; he was motioning me inside; the meeting awaited my presence. I was no longer angry, hostile or tired; Bluff's soothing surroundings had dissipated my aggression and aroused my sedated mind . I could now, hopefully, benefit the meeting instead of hindering it; I was ready.
Katrine Jorgensen Nielson
Later that day I was still feeling the ease of the morning. As I sat in my office trying to focus my thoughts long enough to write something legible, the front door chimes went off. I was in the middle of expressing a thought, so I kept typing. From inside the shop I heard a woman's voice call out, "I'm looking for a husband." It is not unusual for spouses to become separated between the cafe and Twin Rocks trading post, so I have heard the inquiry before; just not in that way.
Never one to miss an opportunity at humorous sarcasm, I quickly called back, "Well . . . I am married, but Bluff was founded by polygamists, so maybe we can work something out!' I then got up and went into the shop. There stood a woman of about 65 years, frozen in mid-step, turning three shades of red. She looked at me with surprised shock registering on her face and stammered, "No, not you . . . I mean . . . No!!! The poor woman turned quickly on her heel and departed, shaking her head in disturbed embarrassment. It seems the anger and aggression have left me but the chaos remains. I'll have to work on that.
With warm regards,
Barry, Steve and the Team.
Copyright 2007 Twin Rocks Trading Post
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