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Show ALL DUNN by Roy Dunn times if indeed the sun is shining. I wouldn't want to endure all that, and more, not when I can live right here in this valley val-ley where I am guaranteed a brand new day every twenty four hours, for the four seasons sea-sons of every year. A brand new day to do with what I will. And I intend to make the best of them and live every minute, of every day, for the rest of my days. I suggest you try it it's a lot of fun. Shucks, I reckon I kinda got carried away and haven't really real-ly said anything, but just rambled on and on. And I probably haven't said anything you didn't already know. But maybe you haven't thought of it lately isn't it nice to be able to live in this Utah Valley? Val-ley? Some folks say they don't like it here. Seems to me as if you could leave if you don't like it. Ain't nobody holding you here unless you happen to be in jail in which case you will probably leave just as poon as you get out for you are bound to be mad at Utah. As for me, I'm gonna try and stay out of jail and just stick around here and cuss every one from the Governor, right on down to the city commissioners, commis-sioners, just to aggravate those folks who wish I'd leave for the Arctic and stay there. SEE YA'ALL LATER HOWDY FOLKS It's been a long hot summer, but already autumn can be smelled in the air if you sniff at the right time of day. There is no turning turn-ing of the leaves yet but one can sense the chage coming on. I would have it no other way, for how dreary and monotonous it must be to suffer eternal summer or winter with no change of the seasons to deck the trees with the brilliant colors of autumn. And later the branches are stripped, stark and bare, and are decorated with fluffy white like icing on a cake. And in due time the earth turns us closer to the sun in its perpetual path of travel, and the snow disappears into the earth to nourish the seeds lying in wait, and the greenry bursts forth again completing complet-ing the cycle according to His plan. I never tire of the changing seasons and can hardly wait for the transmission, and even though I know what to expect, I am always filled with wonder. Along the roads and trails at this season, many small animals ani-mals can be seen scurrying about, busily storing food for the cold months ahead for they are not fooled by the Warm days and balmy nights. It's a pity that some able-bodied folks don't follow their example and get off their derriere (and the welfare rolls) and taste the satisfaction of holding one's head high. It's a pleasant taste. I would not want to live out my life within the circle of the Arctic for I would have missed too much not to have ever seen the cactus in blossom, whose thorns say to me, "Look, but don't touch." And the sego lilies li-lies and the flowering sage and the columbine and the thousand-and-one varieties of wild flowers that decorate our mountains and valleys for us to enjoy and all for free. It's a pleasant change from reading of some senator, or judge, who has breached our trust for these things are not contaminated and do not leave a gall, bitter taste on our tongue. And when these flowers have served their purpose for another an-other season, they wither and fall from the vine. They are not really dead but are only in a state of suspension for their rseeds lie dormant on the ground where they were thrown from the pods as if shot from a gun, or carried on a breeze. And the snows will surely come and cover them with a blanket of white to wait the coming of spring again. And I wouldn't want to endure an arctic night of six months with temperatures of minus forty or six months of daylight, day-light, trying to protect myself from the hordes of mosquitoes which can darken the sun at |