United States Mountain, framed in fall splendor and capped with winter snow. Tis a Lovely representation of feelings that I can't seem to find words for, that this is the view on my thrice weekly walk up Camp Bird Road, that somehow, someway, I managed to make good on a bold wet-behind-the-ears prophecy to my daddy whilst sitting around a campfire in the Amphitheater above Lovely Ouray: "Someday," I said softly, "I will live here. Mark my words." It was the last time I saw him, for he would die a little over a month later.
The grey mists of clouds and pouring rain out the window fit my mood. A storm is rolling in from the north, the first in a winter series that will pummel the Rockies with hundreds of feet of snowfall...low pressure areas that form and build into monsters off the southern coast of Alaska and quite literally beat their way to our doorstep.
On the eve of our much postponed departure, the forecast has been changing by the hour. It threatens our best laid plan to get out of town whilst the getting is good. A rendezvous with the worlds biggest curmudgeon, (Moab) will be delayed. Dallas Divide and Norwood Hill (always in the shade) are not for fair-weather gal's like Goldilocks; she has no snow boots nor cleated rubbers. Boonie made the leap to Moab yesterday, in order to beat the Beast to his punch. I can only hope he has secured us a good boondock. From what Chinle says over on Spotted Dog, Moab is a tad deserted right now due to a Tea Party tantrum. It would be nice to have the run of the place for a change, and one certainly doesn't need a National Park to enjoy the offerings of Red Rock country.
Ah, there goes Ms Autumn's leaves, beaten to the ground by bullets of rain; there goes Skyrocket Creek, flash flooding down from The Blowout; what's another day...or two. Maybe I'll get my first article roughed in for The Monitor Magazine. Or I could go soak in 104 degrees of liquid bliss at the Ouray Hot Springs...lean back, close my eyes to the blinding rain, and reflect on the good times spent camping with Mom and Dad in the Amphitheater above Lovely Ouray a long, long time ago, and all the water that's past under the bridge since then.
Lovely Ouray, curled up in the lap of the Amphitheater