Where we were raised, what we see and know of our time and our place, all of it was chosen so our hearts and hands might bear a particular terrain and texture, one that would help us with our work and our love.
When at 16 I dreamed of moving far away from this place, living in Denver and wearing the city lights like some proud and civilized diamond necklace, I was here between two small mountain towns: Silt and Rifle. It took so long for me to understand that mountains make for strong, silent souls and a diamond necklace is just a few rocks on a string, not much good for anything. I love these mountains.
These are the bookcliffs that surround Rifle and lead to the valleys of Palisade and Fruita (you've probably eaten a peach from there.)
All the wild horses...
The walls of Glenwood Canyon carved out by the Colorado River.
There have been a lot of fires in the area--they leave the mountains bare but for the stubble of tree stumps along the bald face.
I don't know how many times I've been down this road. You'd think you'd get used to the scenery, but you never do.
The Colorado River passing through Rifle.
My first job was here at the Rusty Cannon as a maid.
This is Burning Mountain. There was a big mine fire that left this scar where the mountain still burns.
The hogbacks in Silt where I grew up.
oh, mountains. Mountains! You're so right - they do the soul good.
ReplyDeleteI love that picture of the road that you should be used to, but you're not. I can see why.
Isn't it amazing how some parts of home never really fully capture us until we learn to appreciate them -- and then they never stop captivating us.
ReplyDeleteMountains are magical, beautiful creations. They take my breath away every time.
Thanks for sharing home with us. :)
Love these pics! I remember those Glenwood mountains. We were convinced there were rubies, sapphires, diamonds and emeralds up there. :)
ReplyDeleteI feel like I should say that Denver is also beautiful, but this girl wasn't made for diamonds. Uh...I'll just stop there.
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