The storm left snow on Grand Mesa and all the big mountain ranges surrounding us. Winter has arrived up there!
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
While standing at the corner of the alfalfa field and the newly planted alfalfa field, if one turns toward the east and a little to the south those magnificent wonderful San Juan Mountains shine forth.
Today they are full of snow—winter has come for those who live there and water for those whose lakes and streams flow down, down, down.
Silent, beautiful, and full of snow.
(P.S. There is snow on Grand Mesa, and the mountains around Paonia. Snow! Water! Winter!)
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
“Forget not that the Earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.”–Khalil Gibran, The Prophet
I was either seventeen (17) or eighteen (18), when my paternal grandmother, offered to me a much worn red, leather-bound book, with thin onionskin pages and a red silk ribbon for a bookmarker.
She told me how much she loved the tiny book and thought that I (possibly) might like it also.
She was so right. I did love the book and I still do! The book is The Prophet, By Khalil Gibran.
Winter is heavy here now..the clouds cover us like a tomb, but the sinking away of the sun lights those very same clouds; showing dark and dreary really isn’t totally dark and dreary.
Snow is on its way. The Moon tells us so.
The heavens are brimming with clouds, but still…in a wee break; the moon sits quietly in a moisture-laden circle of rainbows.
From my world to your heart, Linda
We took a wee trip. Over the Uncompahgre Plateau (just behind our house) to the west end of Montrose County…into the towns of Nucla, Naturita, and Norwood.
We traveled across the Uncompahgre Plateau to the base of the Lone Cone guarding the hills, vales, and towns from it’s majestic view there in the sky.
We have been hearing how terribly horribly dry everything was on the plateau, so we took off for a five-hour-round-trip drive (with a nice lunch in Ridgway, Colorado)
Oh…it is sooooooo dry up there. So very dry. The green grass, which should be green, just isn’t. It looks like October grass all brown and crinkly.
The ponds, sloughs, ditches, and reservoirs are dry. Nothing there, accept possibly a puddle.
It’s all so scary.
The west side of the Uncompahgre Plateau looks much better than our side. It is greener, the wild berries are blooming and the trees starting to put on new leaves. There are even some ponds with water in them.
As we grew closer to the San Juan Mountain range we saw snow still on them—so there is hope for those living in that area.
If we start to get rain it will help. Then next winter’s snow (as much as I don’t care for winter, it is an important source of water) needs to fall early, thickly and very often.
Only time will tell.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Although the winter hours are snail-like in progress moving ever so slowly toward the uplifting time of Spring.
My days are still full of wonder and joy. From the tiny shadows of the dried out, but still standing weeds,
feather laying in wait for me to find it.
And always, always that wonder of the sun shining on the mountains; (This mountain range is the San Juan Mountain range) surrounding our farm.
And those oldest of sundials— shadows—horizontal, vertical, then horizontal again, in the shifting light.
As the light begins to die, burning color upon the land, fading moment by moment into ashes of gray. My heart lifts in song.
I hope I am always here. Living out my last days… right here, on this little farm.
For you see….I truly love my life.
From my world to your heart.
Linda