My Sanctuary…

My goal for this month was to write more, unfortunately, desire, health, and my heinous schedule has curtailed my efforts.  I made six trips to Lone Tree Cancer Center to get my infusion, only to have those infusions cancelled (until this past week), then I spent two days of my chemo recovery trying to stay awake long enough to entertain two children.  Needless to say this week hasn’t really gone as expected.  Normally, we do a Sunday morning hike, but my desire to walk through the woods right now is non-existent.  Further receiving distressing news about the health of one of my sister-in-laws didn’t make me feel like doing much.

So I am going to post some pictures of a recent hike we took to Catamount Falls, as part of the Catamount trail.  The trail itself is 5.5 miles (one way, but I could not do the entire hike, so I did just the Thomas Trail where the falls are visible.  These pictures were taken a few weeks ago, so the leaves are in full bloom.  I didn’t realize how much I missed four seasons until living in a state with one season.

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The first thing I noticed on this hike is the interspersed maple and aspen with the pine trees.  Pine in Colorado burns easily, but also grows easily, so when the fires went through a few years ago, the pine still thrived, and the hard woods did not.

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Near the streams, however, there are plenty of young maple and aspen.  We have a few growing in our yard now, and the colors have changed from a dark brownish to a golden red.  But my all time favorite are the cedar/aspen.

 

I love the golden colors.  They just make me excited for warm coffee mornings, hot chocolate, ‘amores, and the trappings of winter that are just not the same in Florida.  Not that I don’t miss flip flops, and eternal summer, but it for this Yankee it just isn’t the same.

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Florida does have it’s share of water, but there is nothing like a cool stream falling along creaky rocks, with falling leaves, and a brisk breeze.  I absolutely loved watching the water fall down 30 ft rock cliffs, and hearing the sounds of the brook near the valley.

I call Colorado my sanctuary, because I feel so much like home here.  Among the mountains, wild flowers, streams, and clear air.

And finally after several miles of hiking, sweating, and stops of sharp hypoxic breathing, we reached the bottom of the valley, and followed our stream back to the car.  There I reveled in the pictures that I took.  I realize that I love photography, because I love going back, looking at the streams, sticks, trees, flowers, and remember the smells, the feelings, and the pure joy I have during my hikes.  These are my happy times, and this is my sanctuary.

 

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