Despite today’s frigid temperatures, spring is around the corner, and I’m warming myself with memories of a hike in the open space last June. We’d gotten lots of snow last winter and so the flowers were magnificent.
Here’s a burst of color from a type of blooming thistle that’s probably invasive and somewhat annoying when it scratches my legs as I run past on the trails. But pretty, right?
June 24, 2021
I don’t have the time to identify these yellow wildflowers because, well, there are sh*t-tons of yellow wildflowers. But it’s a lovely little wheel, isn’t it?
Here’s another probably-invasive thistle which is also scratchy-scratchy when I run past, but right now reminds me of a burst of warm, pink sunshine.
Lastly, here’s a delicate specimen that, despite its straight-forward appearance, defies identification. White and yellow wildflowers definitely test my skills.
This latest snowfall is priming the ground for another glorious wildflower display and I look forward to exploring with my camera in a few months.
We cut our neighborhood walk short today due to rapidly falling temperatures. When we left the house, it was about 39 degrees. Approximately ten minutes later, it was 28 degrees. At least, that’s what Zippy’s phone said when he checked it. As for me, I couldn’t see much of anything because my cold nose was buried in my neck gator which then caused my glasses to steam up. All this to say, I’m craving warmer weather right now and making due with looking at summer hiking photos.
Here’s some flora and fauna from a Square Top Lakes hike:
Rocky Mountain Parnassian on a Wild Aster. August 28, 2019
Ahh, I can practically feel that sunshine on my shoulders.
It’s gray and gloomy out my window, as it’s been for much of the past several days. But I just finished writing for the day and am treating myself to these cheery tulips which warm my soul. They can almost pass for a row of little, petaled suns.
May 11, 2021
Here’s hoping for blue skies tomorrow, even if only for a few minutes. Until then, I have my sunshine-y tulips.
Despite the National Weather Service’s warning that a boatload of snow was headed our way last night, we woke to only three inches this morning.
Vinca blooming among the snow. May 11, 2021
And they were incorrect again when they predicted a whole bunch more snow this afternoon. It did snow quite hard at times, but it didn’t stick. It’s been a mix of rain and snow and more rain. And rain
beats melts snow.
The trees and shrubs are intact. Hallelujah!
It’s rainy and gray outside, but I’m not complaining. The alternative was a huge snowstorm which, fortunately, the forecasters seem to be walking back. While we do need moisture, rain would be much kinder to the new leaves on trees and shrubs. I don’t want any of them destroyed by a heavy winter snowstorm; the blooming crabapple trees are currently quite lovely.
American White Pelican, Barr Lake State Park. April 8, 2021
So right now I’m content with the rainy-gray as I think back on last month’s pelican-rich day that also happened to be sunny and warm.
Monday mornings have never been my favorite thing, but at least I don’t have to eat my breakfast in the cold and wet like this bunny.
Out my window, May 3, 2021
And I’ve never eaten a meal with my ears tucked together to keep out the snow and rain.
Suddenly, my Monday morning suddenly doesn’t look too bad.
We’re headed out for our first camping trip of the year and this is what it looks like outside:
April 28, 2021
The good news? We’re headed to another part of Colorado (John Martin Reservoir State Park) where the high will be an acceptable 59 degrees. Cloudy, but warm enough. And maybe that cloud cover will make for better bird photos. We shall see.
The other good news? Even though it’ll get down to 39 degrees tonight, we’ll be toasty (we hope) in this work-in-progess:
This is our maiden voyage in Moby, the cargo van we’re converting to a campervan. I’m excited to hit the road!
April 16, 2021
wrought iron cushioned by snow
butts will be cold, though
This photo was taken exactly a year ago and I’m sharing it now because the forecast says to expect snow for the next five days.
April 13, 2020
So even though the shrubs are starting to bud out and sprout tiny green leaves, we’re going to pretend spring isn’t happening. Ah, well. I’m never going to badmouth much-needed precipitation. As the saying goes: April [snow] showers bring May flowers.
March 19, 2021
Yesterday was sunny and warm. Today’s temperature is 41 degrees colder than yesterday and the sky is gray. That shift in the weather, plus a whole lot of other stuff, has dampened my overall enthusiasm.
But I aspire to Batman’s exuberant outlook. So, while I’m not heading outside to slide down snowbanks in my Build-a-Bear undies, my plan is to fake it until I (hopefully) make it.
Worth a shot, anyway.
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~ Charles Dickens
Exactly so, Mr. Dickens. Which is why I’m sitting in a patch of sunshine next to this geranium that’s reaching for the warm light.
March 29, 2021
The wind can’t touch us here.
The snow has started falling again, much to the delight of these four kids.
It’s been fun seeing the many snow caves and tunnels and quinzhees around the neighborhood. When I lived in Anchorage, my good friend Anne S. did a weekend wilderness class during the winter in which they had to build quinzhees and then spend the night in them. She invited me to take the class with her, but I declined. When Anne returned, she regaled me with stories of a woman named Betsy who struggled throughout the weekend, constantly complaining about cold, wet, hunger, discomfort, etc.
I looked at Anne and said, “I would’ve been the Betsy of the quinzhee.”
True then and true now.
One of my favorite aspects of living in Colorado is the quick change in weather. Yesterday was the snowpocalypse and today is, well, see for yourself.
Shoveling was hard work this morning. There’s A LOT of moisture in the snow and so the closer to the ground, the heavier the load. As I cleared the sidewalk, it took three shovelsful (carving away layers) before I saw concrete and could move ahead.
But now much has already melted. Here’s the corner of the deck from yesterday’s post, along with a shiny photo of the rail at a different stage of meltage:
Can’t wait to see what tomorrow’s weather will bring!
I can vouch for my Stay-At-Home household in Colorado: we are NOT amused by this snowstorm and the accompanying cold temperatures.
We need sunshine. We need warmth. We need dry streets and trails.
Out my window. February 7, 2020.
Snow fell, keeps falling
blanketing my whole wide world
sky meeting the ground
Loki on Oct 3, 2018
Here’s Loki more than a year ago, basking in sun so bright his pupils are slits. None of that toasty warmth today. It’s gray. Cold. Drizzling and threatening snow. Soul-crushing, if I’d allow it. BUT. I’m parked at my standing desk, drafting my new novel.
Maybe if it was sunny and warm, I’d be curled in a patch of sunshine. Napping instead of writing. Guess that’s my silver lining on this miserable day. Color me grudgingly grateful.
This week brought ice, snow, and frigid temperatures. But in classic Colorado style, today was blue skies, sunshine, and a balmy 55 degrees. My sons and a friend joined Emma and me on a walk around the neighborhood this afternoon, and the weather was so delicious I wanted more. When we got home, I put on my running togs and ran around the neighborhood streets.
Final light of the day hits neighbor’s roof as melting snow falls in jeweled strands.
And even though the sun has disappeared behind the hills, I’m still feeling good. Thank you, sunshine and endorphins!
It’s currently 22 degrees outside.
November 11, 2019
If I were a nicer person, I’d offer this fox a couple pairs of warm, woolen socks.
As it is, I’m staying inside where I can absorb the heat from my laptop as I work on my new writing project that makes me happy, happy, happy.
It’s a whole new week, people. Let’s do this!
November 7, 2019
Cold, heartless ice storm
captured fallen maple leaves
they’re stuck and I fell.
These snow-covered lines
already freed by sunshine
I can’t hold a grudge
Deck and red maple tree on October 10, 2019.
Yesterday we had a high of 80 degrees which then swung to a low of about 20 degrees today. We’re currently at a balmy 25 degrees. Hooray?
I’m praying to the goddesses that we don’t lose trees and shrubs as a result of the temperature swing. The last time this happened, many trees and shrubs (including our own) died. And I’m talking old, well-established trees. It was heartbreaking. The only upside to this current situation is that the snow might provide enough insulation to keep them alive. Last time, there was no moisture involved in the temperature swing.
I’m beaming toasty thoughts to the trees and shrubs. Please hang in there!
October 1, 2019
In October, a maple tree before your window lights up your room like a great lamp. Even on cloudy days, its presence helps to dispel the gloom. ~ John Burroughs
Purple Coneflowers are currently blooming in my garden, but this photo is from a year ago. Why? Because it’s currently 91 degrees and I don’t want to be outside taking pictures in the blindingly-bright, sweat-inducing heat.
Sometimes substitution is the best policy.
It’s been raining here, off and on, since yesterday afternoon. Part of me has had enough of this dreary, wet weather. But another part of me loves all the lush green, so I’m trying to adopt the Beatles’ attitude: Rain, I don’t mind. Shine, the weather’s fine.
Emma and I haven’t gone out today, though. She doesn’t like water in her ears and I’m not in the mood for the cold damp. Instead, we’re enjoying the cozy indoors.
Rain, we don’t mind. As long as we’re warm and dry.