We are here and not there. That’s one story.
We are here and weren’t really planning to be here. That’s another story.
We’re visiting our younger son. That’s a story too, one I’ll perhaps tell another time.
Signature Colorado experiences: fellow shopper in King Sooper with a white beard down to his belt buckle.
“Shallots are just past the tomatillos.”
Outside: shirtsleeve weather.
A theme song for this moment might be one of my old favorites. Traffic.
I’ve added a white window to the dark house so it’ll look illumined from within.
Considering story alot lately, especially as an interpretation …
And as a vessel for memory
Dee~ I can feel the mountain-ness from your photos. The air and culture of that. It reminds me a bit of my time in Northern Nevada. There is a strong sense of place. My only time in Colorado, after dreaming of it since I was 15, was mostly spent passing through – with me singing John Denver songs the whole way.
The moon, the lights from within and without…all travel with us, wherever we are. May you have much light there.
I love “Can’t Find My Way Home” too. 🙂
I love the sky in Colorado.
In 2017, my daughter, son- in- law and grand kids met us in Colorado for a vacation. Our objective was to visit Rocky Mtn National Park for a week and then they would come back with us to New Mexico and stay for a week with us. The Park was glorious, blue skies, green trees and meadows, mountain goats, deer and snow. The Air B and B that was rented, not so much. It had lots of bedrooms but it also had most of the closets filled with clothes which tended to creep us out. Colorado is a beautiful place and Rocky Mountain National Park was to quote my grands, “awesome.” My grandson gifted me with a little twig that he found that was covered in moss. Before we went to where we were staying, we visited an outdoor mall in Denver that had painted pianos outdoors the grands serenaded us with music and I danced and was joined by an older gentlemen who did a little twirl and then took himself to another piano and played some ragtime music.
Let Me Just Dance — how does that sound for the title of your memoir?
The closet full of icky clothes. You never quite know what you’re getting with these places. This one is okay in spite of the rough exterior.
I’ve been up to Rocky Mt Natl Park and I remember the delicate wildflowers growing so close to the ground.