As I dropped down over the hills of the Upper End I stopped in wonder.
Dropping down to a sitting position, backing myself up to a crop of Chico and rabbit brush, I held my breath… the sight was a gift to behold.
The wind stirred the brush, and rustled the cattails in the marsh behind me, above me a Murder of crows passed their shrill cries loud, but part of the whole.
Even though the wind whined around me, flipping dust and little particles of debris on to my face and clothes, it was hard to leave. The clouds continued to thicken overhead, the spring storm I watched gather on the Uncompahgre Plateau, then move into the Rubidoux Canyon, was making it’s way toward Boomer and I.
What sunlight we had was quickly darkening from all the heavy clouds boiling up from the Roubidoux Canyon, and spreading rapidly across my part of the sky.
Boomer and I were going to get drenched if I didn’t start moving soon!
Still I sat— until large wet, almost snow,— drops began to plummet from the clouds. Calling out to Boomer I picked myself up. Stowed my camera in my pocket. Raised my hand toward the Eagle and called, “THANK YOU! You Made my day!”
Wet, but not too bad.
Just watching the huge spring storm washing it’s way toward us, then being gifted with the sight of that magnificent bird— lifted my heart! What a wonder to be so close to the wilderness, to be able to share in a small moment of time.
With love from my heart to your world,