The Garden of Angels

 

I should begin by saying  a big THANK YOU!!! To Donea Lee at Queen of Procrastination who awarded me The Versatile Blogger award. You will spot in it's new location on the right below my blogging friends...
I was touched and honored!
(And yes, I will be Paying it Forward so be on the lookout for that!)



We woke up at our regular hour this morning (that being sometime around 6 a.m. as that is about the time we get up each day to drag ourself to work)to the S word! (Some might conjecture that I might mean that the dog had done his/her business on the carpet but I have no pets and as generally we are a clean lot, you can figure that I do not mean there was anything on the carpet that smelled and would require scrubbing.)

Glancing out the window there was a blanket of whiteness covering the ground and a white coverlet overhead portended more of the frozen whiteness in our future. We let out a collective groan and fell back to sleep, thankful that it was a day off and we didn't have to get outside to face cold snow-filled shoes or shoveling (no point shoveling till most of it had finished). I considered bundling up to take some pictures... after all, freshly fallen snow can be lovely in pictures for those looking at it. Alas, it is not pretty to me and I had no will to find any loveliness in it today. 

So, instead: We journey instead into the past (on one of my Friday's off after dropping off my son at school) when I adventured to the Foothills for some solitude...

 In a car not terribly mountain worthy, I dared not drive too vertically before I find someplace to park. I'd headed up Highway 285 knowing that I might find a quiet path not too far from the main roads when the sign ahead caught my eye and I decided to veer right to the infamous Amphitheater-- Red Rocks.  

Red Rocks has some personal history for me-- I attended several concerts here (at one having gotten very drunk and... well, let's not finish that particular story.) But I also graduated here and stood on the stage with the band and choir awaiting the diploma that would see me out of high school and on to so-called higher education. I stood at the base of the red clay rocks recalling my history here (at least all that I could) and marveled at the changes that have occurred. And then headed on my way...

There are several quiet paths amidst the towering rock and after a false start (batteries dead in the camera! damn! Thankfully Red Rocks is made for tourists and the tourist shop opened at 9) I headed off. 

(This path seemed innocuous enough as I first started up the slope but quickly realized that the top half of the incline was loose rock.) 

It was a quiet morning... the people I ran into were ambitious exercise types who were stair-stepping in the amphitheater. I, having no interest in seeing the familiar concert hall, wanted the solitude of the back paths and this is what I received...

 As I stand here, looking at the red shale of Red Rocks, I am a Time Traveler in the most literal sense of the word. While the Rocky Mountains that lie to the right of the camera's lens are older, this exposed shale is 300 million years old-- at least that is when the sand was first deposited in their current location. 

And over millions more years, dinosaurs roamed this region, laying their eggs, devouring their prey, and harvesting the plant life... then at the end of their life finally lying down to die and leaving behind their remains for us to find like giant puzzles in the clay. In fact, not too far from this point lies the Morrison Formation- a spot which has produced some of the largest dinosaurs that have ever lived and finds are still common there- academic studies an ongoing event.

(by the way--  Rusty Ol' Bastard, a.k.a. ROB is the car parked at the bottom of the hill) 

Something about the rugged way the rocks lay against each other and perhaps the craggy lips that jut out above you... it as though they have been tumbled there under violent circumstances and you can very easily imagine a world in turmoil as volcano and earthquake push the shale and sandstone up toward the blue skies of Colorado.  

Red Rocks was originally known as The Garden of Angels and is a favorite of performers because of it's natural acoustics which are not duplicated anywhere else in the world. (Having sung on the stage, I can tell you that it is a remarkable place to sing with beautiful scenery as a backdrop!). 

It is tempting to many to attempt to climb these rocky outlays-- in fact when I was young (that would be about the same time the dinosaurs walked the earth), it was a favorite activity to head to Red Rocks in the summer and do some rock climbing. A challenging climb and a lovely day all to be had a mere 30 minute's drive from home! Alas, like so many pleasures of youth, signs abound...

Climbing on the lowest, most inoffensive boulder seems to alert the ever vigilant Park Rangers so I will wind my way back to my car on this walkway for concert goers- careful to keep my feet on the cemented path. The "$999 dollar fee or 100 days in jail or both" that is exacted for heading off into verboten areas is not worth it in my humble opinion.   

The winter months have changed the timbre of my day's off. The shortened days, bare branches and cold breezes do not invite me to linger out of doors... that along with feeling the limitations of time. I have fewer hours to write so my day's off need to be spent Getting Things Done rather than meandering the rockways and  backways of the Foothill. 

I can't wait till spring!

New Creations Blogfest!

Happy Birthday Summer!! and thanks for the hosting the blogfest! 
So here are the rules:  one sentence is a favorite last line from one story last year... and one brand new sentence to start something new.



When I first read about Summer's blogfest I wasn't going to enter because I didn't have a last year's ending sentence so this is a little cheat--it is a piece of "Death and Politics at the End of the World"  which I submitted as a short story, but I didn't write a short story last year so.... 

"Pulling out into the steady stream of traffic, I am only half aware of changing lights and turning cars as I measure my own lucidity."  

if you object to my cheat you could read the ending of my blogposts from this year here and here...

This year's new sentence:


"It smothers her, enclosing her in its tentacled grip of hostility and drags her down into an abyss as she struggles, even as realization dawns that there is no escaping the invisible appendages that pull her, flailing in futility until her al dente spaghetti limbs ache with the effort.

Transcending earth

Place... 

in some of the most memorable fiction or movies, the place, like Macondo the village in "One Hundred Years of Solitude," takes on a character of it's own

.

It has a life that transcends time. It is more than a communal dwelling where the inhabitants greet each other at the grocery store or hang out at the local coffee shop and gossip. The place becomes a character as full of life as the congregants who live there. Magical things happen that can't quite be explained and events in the "real" world seems as distant as Neil Armstrong strolling moonside. You can think about this place and you can dream of it, but you'll never completely capture the essence of the place that is beyond time- 

Unless, you are the Creator of that Place!   

Don't call me a super hero just yet!

Circulation Clerk for Denver Public Library by day...
Writer by night...
Intrepid Photographer whenever I get the opportunity...
So for those of you new to my blog-- I combine my love of photography with my writing as often as possible. I hope you enjoy... 

Forty-five minutes from our front door (depending on how sardine-like the highway is) lies the liberal mecca of Colorado... Boulder. Boulder is well known for it's progressive policies in these parts-- maintaining their open spaces whilst Denver was expanding and growing, almost exploding while nearby Jefferson County would  have loved to have swallowed parts of Boulder County up into plans for FUTURE DEVELOPMENT! Boulder would have none of it, however, and many parts of the city remain quaint and old townish and the county itself is indeed, full of that shameful OPEN SPACE! It's a favorite place to visit, having the attraction that there are nearby rocks to climb (someday I'll tell you about my fear of heights!) and great bookstores and a lovely street shopping mall...

The Pearl Street Mall

The day we determined to head out, it turned out, was the near perfect day to hit the mall considering it was December and Boulder lies nestled next to the foothills and can be several degrees cooler and blusterier than it's big city counterpart. The sun was shining (YAY!!!) and we found parking a few blocks away without having to ask for a loan from the bank (YAY!!!!) (okay, I exaggerate... a little). Ostensibly we were Christmas shopping...

 but the temptations are too great. We can never pass up the opportunity to hit the great bookstores here. Besides we do buy books for the kids and each other (although to be honest I think the books had been purchased already)

After we made our purchases we were ready for some real shopping and we headed down the street.
There are many eye catchers as you walk past the eclectic residents of Boulder.
Buskers
and Street Performers abound
but because it was December,
the most astounding thing caught my eye...

Purple Pansies coloring the flower beds in the center of the walkway. Pansies are one of my favorite flowers because of their hardiness and their lovely coloring-- if there were a flower that I could choose to be it might be a just that- recalling springtime and summer while the cold winds blow just above and though the snows might cover them for a while, they often manage to come out from under it unscathed. But I digress...

  

So off we went...Oops!

Well, waylaid a bit. This bookstore is also terrific and cannot be passed up. Just look at those lovely shelves, chalk full of just about any book you could wish to find! Most of my favorite authors are covered here-- Jeannette Winterson, Paul West, Italo Calvino... You name it, they probably have it! New or used. Don't these shoppers look excited? And here they are looking over books that have stood the test of time as well as looking for exciting new authors-- 

All right, now really it's time to get to some other shops. Lets make our purchases and head out-- there is so much to offer here....

Outside the bookstore, a sad looking gentleman is struggling to play a chord or two while singing a song that is I believe made up as he goes along. He was in rather better shape than some of the other homeless performers we saw that day... one guy's guitar was duct taped together so poorly that I wondered that it made any sound at all.  

The dirty little secret about progressive Boulder policies is that the city hands out tickets to "campers." This means that if your caught in your sleeping bag on public property, too bad for you! You'll be handed a ticket which you can't afford to pay to add insult to your homelessness.

Nearby, we stop at a favorite shop with home decor and gifts aplenty. Ann Taintor (I love her!) mugs, lip balms, napkins, sticky notes, you name it are all found here. This was a new one that I enjoyed:

Sleighbells are ringing and the day is getting short! There's a candy store nearby that is too die for!

They are noted for their retro style candies. You can buy Snickers or a Hersheys but why would you... 

when they have candy that you may not find anywhere else on earth?!?!?!

This guy doesn't know what to do with himself! 

Even I was at a loss when it was time to choose just one before we left the store...

 Really? 

Just ONE??? 

A favorite kitchen store with just about anything one might need for their culinary pleasure and we had hit the best of the best in Boulder for the day..

 Our free but time-limited parking was UP and we had to head back down the mall before we too contributed to the city's slush fund. 

But we'll be back...next time it will most likely be for a more outdoorsy type activity- most likely involving those hills you see in the background and perhaps a tale or two about my fear of heights.