It's a beautiful day to reminisce in Lovely Ouray. Spring sprinkles. Droplets of rain cling to the Imax Windows of Mine Shack Number Two, uncertain of their fate.
I watch them gang together (come, there is strength in numbers!). It's a smart-rain that gathers...it doesn't beat its head against the pane! It finds and follows pathways of least resistance in tiny seams between the surface-tension of a winter's worth of grime.
Single file, the gang breaks free...rivulets, running wild on an unpredictable "boys night out." They pause to puddle on painted sill, a brief huddle on the upper deck, and, finally, they realize their dream...their reason for being! It's the next stop on their re-cycle merry-go-round of precipitation, runoff, transpiration, and evaporation...the free fall without a chute!
Only to be swallowed up in the open mouth of a thirsty lawn...chugged like a beer at a bachelor party. Rain serves its purpose. Why can't we?
Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please: Purpose is now being served in the Lovely Ouray Room. Note: This is a metaphor. I repeat, this is a metaphor. No action is required on your part. There is no free lunch, free ride, or anything of concrete value. But there is, however, much to lose. Alas, an ambiguous parable, and it stings like wind-driven rain. You are who you are and where you are because of your own mind-set, which dictates your decisions, or lack thereof.
No, this isn't some Mad Scientologist impostor at the Macbook Pro's keyboard...trying to manipulate your mindset. I've not been taken hostage...tied up in slipknots of white nylon rope, fingers and mouth gagged and bound with duct tape (you wish!). Nope, somedays some people are just ripe for poetry and the pitter pat of a soft rain...the boils of cumulus, a bottomed out barometer, and the rumble of thunder, ricocheting through a proper Crevice.
There are no "reflections in boiling water." A rainy day is a good time to sit and be still...alternate thy gaze from the pages of a good book to patterns of raindrops on thy window. Buttered toast, jam, and a hot tea completes this scene.
This mood courtesy of the Box Canyon Blogger, who occasionally leaves scraps of meat on his BCB "bones." Feel free as a rivulet to help yourself. Me? I'm full.
Peace out...
Mark
We even got a bit of rain overnight in Silver City, NM. Great pic of the elegant trogon. We did a hike yesterday with your pal Boonie and talked about seeing the trogon at Patagonia Lake.
ReplyDeleteOur weather here has been just about perfect. Shouldn't be too much longer before it gets better in Lovely Ouray, correct?
My favorite photo is the close up the agave. Beautiful. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteJust beautiful. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI recognize San Diego scenes...
Lisa
Metamorphosis Road
Wow, Mark! You really out did yourself. The paintings are wonderful! The colors in the photos are so vivid. I love the rainbow and the old car. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteMark- Just returned from quick trip to Wisc - Minn- actually experienced snow! Anyway-- For the plane I picked up a book of short stories by Hemingway- just to bring back long ago college memories-- BORING-- Snows of Kil---- come on- he was dying and yelled at his wife -- then another - A drunk sitting in a café-etc-wow that was interesting! Give me BCB - a rant - or a laugh - BUT great pictures to boot!!
ReplyDeleteMark, what delicious metaphors percolate through those first paragraphs. And lovely photos. The one after the old Ford panel truck is now my desktop background. Hope you don't mind. Where was it taken?
ReplyDeleteChris H
Jim and Gayle,
ReplyDeleteGood that you are crossing paths with Pal Boonie, and that he even goes hiking demonstrates his high esteem for "Life's Little Adventurers." :) I would imagine Silver City's climate to be perfect this time of year...bobbie says you're in a holding pattern there in that quaint little RV park. We stayed there while visiting Boonie the first time and found it pleasant. Lovely Ouray is warming up...it seldom goes below freezing anymore.
thanks
Gumo,
Yes the agave is a favorite...did you notice the impressions of the hook thorns left on the inner shoot? It must have just unwrapped. thanks gumo
Lisa,
You are correct...it was a beach in San Diego. Good eye and memory! thanks for your comment.
You guys are moving right along now, I see...
John and Pam,
Thanks guys...I have so many photos from our early RV adventures I thought I'd drag out the scrapbook once in a while and share them. :))
Walden Steve,
Your comparison and preference of the Box Canyon Blogger is flattering... and just goes to show how "art" is in the eye of the beholder. It doesn't take a "Renoir" to get my juices going...sometimes the simplest watercolor captures my attention.
Hemingway would find my style a bit too flowery...too ornate, sometimes. It happens when I'm in a certain "mood," and I want to write a poem instead of a blog post. I like the freedom of being able to do that once in a while. Hemingway would also frown on the number of adjectives...keep the prose unadorned and direct, revise and strip away, and above all, "Kill the adverbs."
Hemingway and Faulkner often attacked each other's styles...they were opposites, for sure, and each extremely good at what they did. Thanks you Steve.
Chris,
Thanks Chris... the photo was taken in Snow Canyon State Park, just north of St. George, Utah. It was a cold winter day, and the clouds were so rich against the red rocks and blue sky. thanks for noticing.
mark