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Morning Ode to Colorado

February 12, 2009

Winter in The Rockies is a special beast. Like much of The West, it is beautiful and savage and inspiring and awesome. From special vantage points I can look out and see nothing but pine forests, mist, and jagged, snow capped peaks. It’s a sight that still hasn’t lost it’s novelty. The world becomes a timeless vista of green, gray, brown and white.

I love the snow. I love the angry biting white out snow as much as I love the gentle swirling snowflakes that make everything look like a postcard.

I love the vastness of Colorado.

I love the wild.

I love that it’s an often inhospitable host, but when you’re let in, you’re there to stay.

I love the cold and the mountain lakes.

I especially love sitting in my cabin. With a fire going in the pot bellied stove. Wrapped in flannel blankets with a mug of hot cocoa. Surrounded by animal heads, chicken drawings, and overstuffed furniture. Watching the snow fall lazily, aggressively, or wistfully outside. It is the ultimate feeling of contentment. It inspires me to knit and bake. I love being in my warm safe haven but knowing that icy, beautiful world is only feet away. I look out my door and it’s a valley of pines.

It’s such a different animal than California. If Colorado is a rangy lone wolf, then California is a family’s Golden Retriever. California is pinks and yellows and softness and balmy nights and happy creature comforts.

Where Colorado is crisp and blue and grey and brown and….sky?, California is hazy and pink and peach and tan and rolling hills.

I love them both. California will always be home, but Colorado inspires me.

Eesh. That was an awful self indulgent morning attempt at poetic imagery. I’ll try to save it with a picture.

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