Mom and Dad have been in Nauvoo for several weeks for the Nauvoo Pageant. (The last night is August 8th. ) The pageant is amazing and so much fun for the whole family. It is so much hard work for Dad and Mom, but they love the rewarding experience. They also love visitors! Enjoy thinking about the beautiful mornings there through Mom's lovely poem below.
MORNING IN NAUVOO
The sun’s rays move slowly
Up, over and through the
Wooded trees and ferns
Here a shimmering ray and there
From the deepest of green
To the palest of light - shadows
Cast across the lawn as
Brightly the solar star ascends.
“Good Morning children of
The earth, it is time to begin once more.”
No, it is not for man solely
To welcome the light of day
God’s creatures all join
This joyful wake up call;
From the tiniest of birds
To the cautious fawn silently
Stepping from her secluded haven.
Or even as the golden butterflies join in the joyful throng
Across this scenic canvas. No artist can truly paint the
Grandeur of the awakening known as morn
The radiance of flecks of gold,
The sounds of nature stirring.
And clamoring for its own daily bread.
The soft chattering of the insects
Or the wind that moves amongst
Thee trees with the pleasant whisper
“It is here, your rest for the night is o’er.”
Nor can be depicted by that same skilled brush
The anticipation of this human heart as I go forth
To a discovery of my very own
This a brand new day.
Barbara Renouf
Nauvoo, Illinois
The sun’s rays move slowly
Up, over and through the
Wooded trees and ferns
Here a shimmering ray and there
From the deepest of green
To the palest of light - shadows
Cast across the lawn as
Brightly the solar star ascends.
“Good Morning children of
The earth, it is time to begin once more.”
No, it is not for man solely
To welcome the light of day
God’s creatures all join
This joyful wake up call;
From the tiniest of birds
To the cautious fawn silently
Stepping from her secluded haven.
Or even as the golden butterflies join in the joyful throng
Across this scenic canvas. No artist can truly paint the
Grandeur of the awakening known as morn
The radiance of flecks of gold,
The sounds of nature stirring.
And clamoring for its own daily bread.
The soft chattering of the insects
Or the wind that moves amongst
Thee trees with the pleasant whisper
“It is here, your rest for the night is o’er.”
Nor can be depicted by that same skilled brush
The anticipation of this human heart as I go forth
To a discovery of my very own
This a brand new day.
Barbara Renouf
Nauvoo, Illinois
Every July I try to read 'Gone With The Wind'. It takes on more meaning when it is literally steaming, wretchedly, sickening, hot outside. It makes me appreciate my air conditioned home and certainly my food! It makes me value my free country and the soldiers that keep war far from my homeland. It is a great July book. 
All the cousins at Temple Square's "I am a Child of God" Exhibit.
We all went on a picnic/s'more-ing in Provo Canyon.
Erin Leigh and Reeve made it the top of the rock climbing wall with only a little help.
