Indian summer

We finally got back to the high country this weekend, the first time since the epic floods. The road up Boulder Canyon has been repaired allowing one gateway to Peak to Peak highway. The aspens were long past their prime except in a few tiny pockets, like this one near Ouzel Falls. What micro climate protected them for an extra week or two of glory?

Although there have been frosts, the grass in the meadows has greened up after all the rain, not the flat brown of a typical October. Signs of rockslides and high water can be seen when you look closely, but most views are unchanged. I wonder if we will have incredible wildflowers next year with all the moisture trapped in the ground and awaiting the seeds in the spring.

Morning Glory

Morning Glories were considered a pest where I grew up. They would tangle around every plant in sight and take over the hillside behind our house. I don't see them often in Colorado, but one magical garden a mile from my house is a paradise of vines and whimsy right now. Zinnias of every color leap out of the center of the garden, threatening to jump the boundaries. But the fences belong to the morning glories, winding up to the sky, towering above the riot of color, imposing their regal purple majesty on the mayhem below.

August and everything after

Late August. Parking spots at the trailhead. Sunrise a little later and unaccompanied by birds. Sunset a little earlier, and bringing the constant background rhythm of the crickets. Still green in the high country, but the profusion of subalpine flowers has dwindled. Here and there the gentian pokes up its head, having saved the deepest hue for last.

And, yes, that Counting Crows album is the best album ever.

Unexpected

Sometimes life surprises you in very unexpected ways.

Catch the beauty

There are always moments to savor, even when life gets a little crazy. This week I start on my third round of chemo. Trying to get everything organized was a little stressful, but now that I'm started, there is a little calm. Time to squash those pesky cells again after having had a wonderful summer hiking.

I was out on a neighborhood walk this morning, and got to see the teasel in bloom. I have always enjoyed their seed head in the winter when covered with a dusting of snow, but had never noticed the tiny purple blossoms. It appears they bloom from the center out. First a ring of purple, then two rings on either side of the first. Subtle, not showy. How many times have I run by these plants and never noticed?

Evening

The perfect summer evening. Warm, windless. The river still strong enough to force its way downstream. The sulphur flower blooming amidst the grass that is holding onto green. Hummingbirds fighting over the feeders one minute and silently slurping on each perch the next. As twilight deepens, the hummingbirds get frantic, and just as quickly, they have slipped away for the night.

Moisture

Moisture comes in many forms. Drizzle, mist, thunderstorm, hail, sleet, snow. Although today is the first of May, the clumps of wet snow fall down my neck as I examine my tulips bending under the weight of today's chosen form of moisture. Perhaps gratitude comes in many forms as well. The heart swelling, bursting with joy kind that you can't escape. The everyday kind that is so easy to take for granted. And the secret, unlooked for kind that can so easily go unnoticed.