Loveliest of Days

Today, April 6, 2011 shall go down in history as the day that Melissa Renée had the most delightful afternoon of all time.

After a trip to DI (a sure sign of good things to come) I quickly grabbed a book and a jacket and headed out for adventure. After concluding that you can't drive up into Rock Canyon (WHY did I think I could??) I settled for more familiar territory and made my way into Provo Canyon. I headed straight to my favorite picnic area (Nunn's Park) and sat down on a terrifically disgusting picnic bench.

I faced the hot trying-to-be-warm April sun and let it beat down barely reach my face.

I zipped up the hoodie to the nerdy tip top.

I flicked a spider away with a twig

I (even more nerdily) pulled the hood over my head.

I cracked open my book.

I flicked the spider away with the twig (again).


and then it happened:



Leonard Nimoy changed my life.

That's right. Leonard Nimoy. The guy who played Spock in the Star Trek the Original Series. I bet you didn't know he wrote poetry. I bet you didn't know I am in love with that poetry. I bet you didn't know that when I say I am in love with it - I'm not exaggerating.

About a year ago I managed to get a copy of one of his poetry books We Are All Children Searching for Love through inter-library loan. That's right - my school with 600 million books on its library shelves didn't have my sweet Leonard's humble prose, and I had to get it from some community college in Colorado. Crazy. But I got it, and I read it, and I loved it, and I gave it back, and I missed it.

For Christmas this past year my angel parents got me not only WAACSFL (lame acronym) but another volume, You & I. It was basically the only thing on my Christmas list and let me tell you, my reaction was about what you'd expect - squealing, screaming, crying, hyperventilating - the works (especially because the copy of You & I is SIGNED BY LEONARD NIMOY HIMSELF! Be jealous that your parents have never given you something that means as much to you as this means to me).

I read them all quickly when I got them and loved every second. They are delightfully cheesy, but really simple and sweet. For a while in January I would pick one to read to my roommate right before we'd go to sleep. A closing devotional, if you will.

Today as I read them aloud to myself, slowly, accompanied by a swift river only yards away, I concluded that he is a great philosopher.

And so am I, by extension. A philosophical person, that is, because I sought out nature and even dealt with that tricky spider so I could read and revel in Mr. Spock's majestic words. I thought about myself, about my relationships with other people, and about my mark on society. I thought about what I believe, and what I know, and how and who I want to be.

And I marveled at the power of language.

I was suddenly overcome with gratitude. Perhaps my gratitude manifested itself in the form of tears. How thankful I was that Leonard Nimoy had decided to capture the feelings he experienced, and that he had executed it so gracefully. As he wrote, he probably didn't guess that 28 years later a bright-eyed 20 year old mormon girl would be so affected by what he (a 52 year old Jewish man) had to say, but I was. I felt his sadness at being abandoned, related to his trepidation about interrupting some grand timeline with the words, "I love you," and truly rejoiced with him as he blossomed into a Spring of self-awareness.

When it became too cold, and the spider too creepily persistent, I retreated to my warm car (thank you, greenhouse effect!). I reclined the seat back all the way and took one of the greatest, most satisfying 40-minute naps of my life. I was warm, I was content, I was wonderfully aware.

I believe I would do well to repeat this afternoon soon.