May 2012

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Mt. Saint Helens

Mt. Rainier & Mt. Adams

I pick the prettiest part of the sky, and I melt into the wind and then into the air, till I’m just soul on a sunbeam.

Richard Bach


Day Two of my Denver related posts, in honor of my Mama’s birthday! Happy, happy!

We’re starting at home on the giant rocks of my youth. The sight of many a photograph, much mischief, laughter, and games, even a kiss or two!

Close Encounters-type clouds greeted us in Boulder.

The Flatirons

and Chatauqua Park in all their splendor.

We’ll eat, drink, and be merry.

I’ll take a photo on the sly,

enjoy the light, and surprise my parents by ordering a side of green beans. The girl who flushed them down the toilet after sneaking them into her napkin, and after being discovered would thereafter cut them into small pieces and swallow like pills, has grown UP.

Boulder and the Pearl Street Mall, despite being far, far older than I,

remain quite the same. Beautiful brick facades,

the twice daily in their accuracy old clocks,

and eager buskers are just as I remember,

that sense of place that resonates.

Something to practice.

One Million Acts of Kindness

When I was little, and the trees in our yard were not so big, I loved gazing at the “castle” gleaming in the morning light from my bedroom window. When I see it now, I feel eight-years-old and giddy all over again. “The castle!”

Looking back to Boulder, the sky’s bark worse than its bite, at least that day.

Thomson Elementary – you were my school back when the doors were orange. I liked them better that way, more like the tigers we were.

Daddy takes me for a ride in his retirement present and drives like a teenager.

This is where I ran around barefoot, brown as a berry, and eager as the truth, from 1976 until 1993. My first home.

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Hi there! I hope you are ready for a slew of Denver photos, peeps. Because they are a-comin’! Starting with a Friday afternoon adventure downtown and over the bridge, with my handsome brothers, walking, talking, lauging, and smiling.

I used to work in the tall building, the Republic Plaza, up above that second black line, on the 36th floor, with stellar views of the city and Front Range. It was a mortgage company, and I was in college, a full-time student, worker bee, and romantic, dating a certain cutie-pie who I am now beyond proud to call the hubster.

On the Sixteenth Street Mall with that fine contrast of old and new.

The piano player had a sweet voice and a light touch on the keys. I tipped her and got a dazzling smile.

A glass elevator with no Chocolate Factory in sight. Too bad.

We are headed just to the left of the church, to a place I spotted on my way to Grandma’s house, roaming the streets in my thumping-bass rental car.

I love architecture and bridges!

Everyone is reaching for the sky

And happy for sunshine.

The Platte River

The sculpture looks like a giant pile of intestines, but is cool, nonetheless.

Live wire, eek!

We’re all fine now.

Horsing around.

Finally made it.

The Colorado flag whips and snaps,

over a small French Bistrot,

Z. Cuisine.

Aaron tries the absinthe.

Chris is not so sure.

I am, however. Gimme! Gimme!

Sneaky sister.

I love my brothers!

Happy, happy 19th wedding anniversary to me and the hubster! I still get giddy when I think about us, truth be told. Our bright-as-a-penny love, better than just about anything good (kittens!) and sparkly (stars!) and fine (whiskey!). Yup, yup.

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…it is sunny and breezy and lovely outside. There were a few tiny-sweet wild strawberries to munch, the peonies are blooming, the spiderwort, too, oh, and foxgloves!

I am recovering from a whirlwind trip to Denver to see friends and family, barely sleep, and drive my rental car 384 miles! So bear with me a bit longer while I gather my wits.

Have a super weekend!

Travel Aftermath

(the latter is also a great Rolling Stones album)

Drinking kombucha, not beer…


Photography is a way of telling what you feel about what you see.

Ansel Adams


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