Unbelievable as it may seem, today was yet another road trip. A mini one.
Cousin Julie and I were joined on this one by my sister, Diane. We got up too early (I am in a sleep deficit of astounding proportions right now) and drove up to the Boulder area where we went on a nature hike of sorts to see wildflowers. In my mind I imagined a sea of oranges, purples, and yellows. While we did see flowers in all those colors, they were very small, delicate, and sparsely scattered along the trail. White yarrow, yellow yarrow, fantastically tiny blue bells and morning glories, and other flowers so small as to be nearly invisible if they weren't pointed out to you. The trail was called the "Towhee", which is apparently some kind of bird we did not see. To get there we had to cross a beautiful little river, the Boulder Creek. (I spit in it as I do in rivers/creeks/streams. But again, that is for another posting.)
The trail meandered up towards the Flatiron range. A range of mountains, huge rocks really, jutting out of the ground at a wild angle. The views were spectacular. The air was filled with the sounds of grasshoppers, and of bees, and of wind rustling through tall grasses. So high as to be nearly not visible were various raptors riding the thermals.
Blues. These are lovely creatures. Butterflies about the size of a dime. There was a whole flock (???) of them dancing in flight over, and landing upon, a gooey patch of mud in a small stream. They fluttered about and landed, showing off their periwinkle wings sprinkled with bright orange. I'm certain the mud wondered why it deserved such attention from these charming fairy creatures.
The snake was coiled up about twelve inches from my right hand as I marched down the trail. I saw it before I heard it. When I made eye contact with it, it opened it's mouth and it hissed at me and it scared the living daylights out of me! I yelled "SNAAAAAKE" and took off running. I am not afraid of snakes, but the hiss sounded alot like a rattle to me and I wasn't taking any chances. After it calmed down, it crossed the path. It was a good five feet long, and as big around as my wrist, but there was no rattle on the end. "Probably a bull snake" our botanist guide told us. Anyhow, it got my adrenalin going. If it had been a rattler, it could have gotten me easy!
We were there for only a couple of hours, but it was long enough to know that I could live in a place that looked just like that and never tire of the sky, the rocks, or that river.
Most certainly a place for a dream home to be built.