I am thankful that I got to see the sun rise through Mesa Arch in Canyonlands.

It wasn’t easy. Not just because you had to get up super early in the morning and drive a long way and hike even farther from the parking lot in the dark, but because there were so many photographers already set up – tri-pod to tri-pod – even in the dark – that it was hard to find a place to view what has been made famous by so many photographers before us.

But we did it. We got up, we drove, we hiked, we peeked between tri-pods and waited for our chance at a spot and we captured the stunning sight.

I am thankful I have been able to watch waves crash against rocks along the shore.

It is something I could do for hours. The power, the intensity, the variety, the beauty never, ever get old. 

I am thankful for the times I have held a sleeping baby in my arms.

Holding a sleeping baby usually means that baby was once awake and probably not happy. And it usually means that somehow you calmed the baby, maybe by walking around, maybe by rocking, maybe by singing, maybe by doing all of the above. And when that baby relaxed into your arms and closed those tired eyes, everything was all right with the world. And it’s all you want to do.

I am thankful I can still make dinner rolls that my family enjoys. It’s not often that I do scratch cooking anymore. Or any cooking at all, for that matter. But when the occasion arises, that yeast still rises and those rolls still get raves.

I am thankful that we found a slice of red-velvet cake on a super rainy day in New York City. 

Our daughter was going to school there and it was her birthday and we were going to get her a slice of her favorite cake no matter what it took. It took several stops before we found it, and we were drenched through to the skin by the time we got back to her apartment, but you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, and running in the rain with all the other people running in the rain in New York City is actually kind of … fun. 

I’m thankful we went backpacking in the Tetons with all of our kids and survived.

It was almost 20 miles and more than 4,000-feet in elevation gain over two days, so it was no small task. But the real adventure came through the night. We’d camped above the tree line and all night long, one lightning storm after another came through, with lightning flashing steadily – sometimes just overhead – and thunder rumbling through the canyons for what seemed like forever.

Some in the family slept through it, but those of us who lived every minute, were ever so thankful for the clear and bright morning that followed.

I am thankful I learned to drive when I lived in Logan, where hills and winter weather made it necessary to develop extra skills. And I’m grateful I learned to drive with manual transmission – it’s come in handy more than once.

I am thankful that I was able to spend time with each of my grandparents.

One was brash, one was gracious, one loved music, one was pious. If I knew them now, I would pepper them with questions about their lives before I knew them. Instead, I’ll tell my grandchildren about what life was like before they knew me. For connection. And understanding.

I am thankful I’ve been able to look down at clouds from the window of an airplane. It never gets old.

I am grateful for every rainbow I’ve ever seen. And for every shell.

I am grateful for life. For every experience. For every opportunity. For every new discovery.

For every day.

Louise R. Shaw, a former Bountiful resident,  is a writer and photographer whose work was featured at the Lamplight Gallery. She is an avid traveler and currently lives with her husband in St. George.