Up in the Mountains

Yesterday was a refreshing change of pace. At breakfast my husband proposed that we go up to Creede and see his cousin's paintings on view in a gallery there. It was the last day of the show and I know he'd been wanting to see it.

The day was absolutely beautiful--one of those late summer days that just shimmers with possibility, but also hints at the cooler weather to come. No matter where you live, you experience those days. Here in my high mountain valley, late summer is rapidly turning to fall, and harvest, but today we bypassed the fields and headed upwards. Traveling through the mountains is always a wonderful experience, but particularly on days like yesterday. We were searching for fall color, and we found it. Just hints of yellow peeking through the aspen groves, most of the leaves still bore the rich green of summer. In a few weeks, though, the color will be out in full force, and it will make its way down the slopes to the valley floor where we live.

On the way the little kiddoes dozed and snacked. I sat in between them working on my latest pair of knitted socks in yarn to match the colors of the landscape. When we got there, I was reminded of how little time it takes to get somewhere out of the ordinary. We took turns viewing the paintings in the gallery, leaving the little ones outside to enjoy the late-afternoon sunshine, and then we got ice cream and drove up Bachelor loop. It is always amazing to me to see the mine ruins spilling down the steep, rocky hillsides, and to wonder if the old rail lines, clinging to cliffs, will someday just come crashing down. I always try to imagine, amid the serenity of the trees and hints of broken cabins, the teeming life that was in this area one hundred years ago as miners and their families and camp followers lived, worked, partied and died here.

Before, I close, I also wanted to talk about my husband. Leaving the ordinary routine, and leaving behind the expectations I had for the day, always creates a space in which thoughts occur to me that would not have if we were not out of the ordinary. We stopped for gas, and while the truck filled up he washed the windshield. Underneath his baseball cap I could see his temples were almost completely gray. I thought about his birthday coming up on Tuesday, and realized, he's going to be 34, and he's our Dad. Not mine, but, the Dad of the family. He's the kind of dad that would want to take his family up into the mountains for a day to look at paintings, drive on the old mining loop, and buy them ice cream. He takes care of us, and I was able to see this clearly through the windshield, as it were. I was just struck by how necessary it is to continue to see your loved ones like this, just simply, as who they are.

Maybe I'll remember this little excursion better for having seen my husband a little better.