The Lot: a History

Each Christmas I'm excited by the amount of new good literature I get to add to my bookshelves. This year mom commented we're nearly out of room in the house, book bindings on colorful display in nearly every room. Late last night I rearranged a few things to make room for the books which now belong to my personal library. A big red-spined art book took its place prominently on the shelves in my bedroom. I'm pleased with its position alongside the thick green Robert A.M. Stern book that I received in 2004.

Perhaps of greatest literary treasure of late though, is the nine page piece penned by Grandpa some 22 years ago this Christmas simply titled, "The Lot." It outlines in greater detail than any other account (written or audible of which I'm aware) the acquisition and construction of one of my favorite places on the earth, a 3/4 acre of land up Weber Canyon. I've read it three times now, going over and over certain spots where Grandpa's writing seems to sing, his lyrics matching the mood of mornings spent in those mountains. I can still hear him whistle to the grandchildren down in the meadow by the swings, ushering us back up the hill for supper around the campfire. Of this spot he wrote:

"The carved wooden sign hangs on an inside wall of our cabin, in the canyon of the Upper Weber River in Summit County, Utah. In 'Spencerian Script,' or 'cursive' as the kids say, it reads simply, The Lot. You might think that such a sign should be on a tree or a post somewhere outside the cabin. But there it is, on the wall above the old green desk, under the open stairs to the lower loft. It reminds us that once there wasn't any cabin -- only The Lot.

"The ground there lies in a gentle slope, covered with a hundred or so quaking aspen, whose green, heart-shaped leaves tremble in the spring and summer breezes, until the autumn chill turns them to shimmering gold. Under the low winter sun, the tall, slender, gray-green trunks cast silent shadows across deepening snow. A few spruce and fir trees provide contrasting greenery during the shorter daylight hours from November 'til March. The night falls early; the darkness dispersed only when the sky is clear and the moon is up, or if one gazes upward to the myriad stars. April and springtime bring back the green of the trees and meadow and the longer hours of the sunshine, and the cycle of the seasons stars all over again...

"It is The Lot that stimulates the mind and refreshes the spirit. Sitting inside, it is the view to the outside that makes the sitting pleasurable. A fire in the evening and a good bed for sleeping afford comfort through the night. But in the morning, dawn brings the beautiful, graceful deer, quietly moving through the mountains and hillsides over across the valley, then the windows and walls on the north side of the cabin and finally floods The Lot with warmth and light.

There are from time to time mornings, both in summer and in
winter, when especially the world seems to begin anew...
The world has been visibly recreated in the night. Mornings
of creation I call them. (Henry David Thoreau, January 26, 1853)

"To experience the delight and the wonder of such a morning at The Lot is to know a special kind of personal re-creation. It is justification for ownership of such a place and vindication of all the work of fifteen years past -- and others yet to come."

Richard Forsberg Haglund, December 1987
photo by RCF, November 2009