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.
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!
last bits of daylight