Someday Country

I sometimes fumble along the written page here amongst the walls of Box Canyon. Putting into words the physical and emotional connection between a man and his geography is difficult. My tongue is often defeated by its meager vocabulary, so when the phrase I desperately seek to "turn" doesn't budge, I resort to someone who better expresses the concept. This being one of those moments, I offer David Malouf's words from "An Imaginary Life:" Here, the immensity, the emptiness, feeds the spirit, and leaves it with no hunger for anything but more space, more light—as if one had suddenly glimpsed the largeness, the emptiness of one's own soul, and come to terms with it, glorying at last in its open freedom." 


It would be suicidal to throw away the things one lives for, which, for me, is just another way of saying, I would rather be dead than live without mountains and wild country. It is true that, without mountains and wildness, I would indeed suffocate, for I, like Ellen Meloy, "cannot abandon the geography that feeds my every breath." 

Well, it seems early to me, but evidently Ms Autumn sneaked into the San Juan Mountains above Ouray this week. She brought along her brushes and palette and layered in the first coats of yellow, gold, orange, and red. It's going to be a marvelous painting when completed. I'll save that for the next post. Meanwhile, here are photos from our exploration of Silver Basin. "Silver" was "someday country," one of many places we'd yet to experience, even though it's only about 7 miles from our doorstep. One's "someday country" list should grow longer with time; it keeps the pulse of life alive and feeds your soul with anticipation. 

And in conclusion, photos from a hike to Chief Ouray Mine, a couple thousand feet above Lovely Ouray.

Have a great hump-day,
mark and bobbie