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Early Saturday morning hike up Cheyenne Canyon to spy on Seven Falls and give hearty greetings from Helen Hunt.

Breakfast lattes at the Ivywwild.

Juniper rockets between us, back and forth, back and forth, four, maybe five times? She will walk afterward, spazzy as ever, not so much as a pant.


Welcome to a midday jaunt to Palmer Lake a week or two ago, the sky ultra clear, sharpening the edges of our vision. We wandered a bit, spying one of the best street names ever, walked around the namesake lake, sipped iced lattes at the Speed Trap, and had a rather nice bit of lunch. Our sweet Juni B. was a near secret diner (such fine table manners she has!) at The Stube, an adorable and delightfully delicious stop.

This morning’s sky stands in stark contrast – smoke filled from a host of blazes and completely obscuring Pike’s Peak. Heart broken at the devastation. Saying prayers for western rain and eastern calm. My beloved country is falling apart…


Our crooked campsite at Joyful Journey. It didn’t look so bad when we were setting up, but the wedged backpack next to the hubster’s sleeping bag to keep him from rolling down hill confirmed otherwise.

Moving, keeping still, exposing what I can’t see.

This was Juniper’s first camping trip, and our first together in more than twenty years. We heard the hoo-hoo of a neighborhood owl under the cloak of darkness and the primal yip and howl of coyotes welcoming the dawn. I cannot imagine a better or more fitting welcome.


looking up

looking down

A beautiful hike just outside Crestone, it was a steep climb, up and up and up, earning Juniper and the hubster a looooong nap while I soaked and soaked and soaked.

I ate handfuls of these. Thimbleberry, maybe?

The San Luis Valley from on high. Good grief it is gorgeous!

rainbow smudge


last bits of daylight




H o m e

Also, I changed the lamp.

Juniper and best pal, Juneau. That tongue!

Milkweed – I have two spritely sprouts that I hope will look this lovely next year.

Early morning walks

puddle gazing

We had the most lovely stretch of Portland storms – five days of me sighing wistfully, “Isn’t it wonderful?”, while just about everyone else I know was cursing under their breath. It takes all kinds.


R U N !

Someone had a birthday. I made cupcakes.


We spent the weekend with the mountain branch of my family, and after a twenty year absence, I was pleased at all that hasn’t changed – the curve of Buffalo Mountain, the quiet starlight and scent of morning, the aspen groves and hills dotted with wildflowers.

Sneaky me, and what sweet cousins I have, holding hands without anyone asking.

shooting stars…

Blue River

Sunrise hike – worth it!

Humon-GUS lives up to his name.

Uncle Ronnie in his element, and a first for me – I spent a rather large portion of my youth in Summit County, yet had never been on a boat on Lake Dillon. It was lovely!


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