The small mountain in the picture was the view from our front window when I was growing up. It changed color during the day and with the weather--sometimes a delicate pink, sometimes an angry gray, and on a sunny day, covered with snow it sparkled like silver lame.
Until 2001 it was known as "Chinks Peak". When I was a kid I didn't know the word "Chink" as anything other than the name of this particular peak. I think I vaguely supposed it was someone's name. I never heard that the mountain was named for the Chinese workers who helped build the railroad and worked in the mines. I didn't know the word was a racial slur. In 2001 it was renamed "Chinese Peak". Amazing how long it takes sensitivity to catch up with geography.As much as I enjoyed the fall scenery on my trip to Pocatello, the real joy of going "home" is connecting with friends and family. Above, my beautiful niece, Steffi, who accompanied us on our walk on her unicycle and below, my handsome, 50-years-young brother, Steve.
Is that a unicycle? What fun!
ReplyDeleteHi Terry,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the quick trip home! Every autumn I wonder why I love this season so much. I remember now. In Pocatello, the hills gradually turn an sage gray and dusty brown as the summer wears on. And then one bright autumn day, the world bursts into glorious color. Have you ever seen a bluer blue or yellower yellow?