First light—-one would think that the air is silent but it isn’t, not at all.

The are birds calling, water rushing in the canal–

10:00 a.m. There is a rich green smell of the alfalfa field as the day heat up.

The birds and the insects are full voice, by this time, and the air dances with life.

Clouds scuttled over the top of us, causing the sun to highlight Hay Stack Mountain way at the end of Roubioux Canyon.  When Terry and I were young the old-timers would tell that Hay Stack Mountain was scared to the Ute Indians.  And (if) you were to climb to the top there you would see many Indian artifacts.  Neither Terry nor I have ever been on Hay Stack Mountian.  The road is closed to motorized vehicles, one must either walk or ride a horse.

 Coming home (from a magnificent meal with our daughter and son-in-law who live in Grand Junction, Colorado) we drove in a rainstorm complete with a rainbow.

Colorado rainstorms can be abrupt and vigorous—the wind blows in black clouds– then they break dropping water in a rush.

Quickly the storm moved toward the north and the east…leaving us with a sky full of vivid color.

Your friend

Linda