Pink Time

The view never gets old. In winter, the straw-colored grasslands dotted with evergreen-dark have an understated, action-suspended aspect. Snowstorms change things up now and again, padding the view as if packaging it for shipment. The white expanses and mounds, throwing shadows of bluish-gray, are pretty, and I love watching the slow-motion changes as snowmelt re-paints…

A Monotony of Mild

The winter started out cold—fiercely so, in fact. Icy air preserved the scanty accumulation from small snowstorms for weeks, solidifying it to slick veneers anywhere it was packed down—on roads, on the pathway I follow to and from the barn. The thin snow cover lingered for weeks under the oblique winter angle of the sun.…

Fireworks Underfoot

Impressive rains in early May gave everyone in this region plenty to talk about. Water accumulated in places it hasn’t been seen in years, if not decades. Springs sprang back to life, and long-dried-out seeps began weeping once again–presumably from joy. Rivers, streams and creeks raged. Lakes, ponds, and reservoirs brimmed, and overflowed. Roads flooded.…

A Preponderance of Purple

My tastes don’t generally run toward clear favorites or coveting the “best” of this or that. I favor variety and contrast and have a tendency to be suspicious of my strongest biases, regarding them with clinical curiosity and trying to figure out where they’ve come from and whether they’re worth hanging on to. Evidently, though,…

Wraparound

I’m not a morning person. Never have been. Cloud bank south of Pikes Peak. I like to sleep, for one thing, and, as is the case with some other aspects of my life as time goes on, I don’t do it as well as I used to. I dislike getting up in the dark. Part…