Springtime in the Rockies

Spring is always my favorite time of year. Everything awakening makes me feel brand new inside. Springtime in the Rocky Mountains is magnificent.

It can be cold at 8000-ish feet. Today in Raton we had snow flurries. The hummingbirds looked more than a little cantankerous as they crouched at their sugar feeders with their feathers all puffed up like little purple and green downy golf balls. Too cold to battle, they sat at their stations allowing each other into their extensive personal space armed with nothing but the occasional sideways dirty look. Two hummers drinking side by side, muttering obscenities. Sharing is not their forte'.

But the weather is fickle in the high desert of New Mexico, with fragments of snowfall soon giving way to the wide expanse of brilliant blue sky where the exuberant sun laughs away the chill. The Southwestern sunshine makes your whole body happy, inside and out.

Aaron and I have been hiking like mad things over the past few weeks. These shots were taken a couple of weeks ago, a few miles from our home, on the Colorado side of the border. Everything's greener now, marching ever closer to the Summer months. Just more and more beauty with each passing hour. Soon the cold will leave us for a good many months, and we'll have nothing but the gregarious sun for company.

But right now the water's cold and Arya argues against poking her toes under the shallow stream bed. "The bridge has run out. We've no choice but to turn around, Daddy..." she pontificates, as only a Saluki can do. With some gentle nudging, she crosses the raging 1/4" deep, 1 & 1/2 foot expanse of mountain stream, and actually survives it.

But not without an earnest pout...

Ponderosa Pines. Divine majesty. In the blazing sun they smell sweet. Like vanilla. I swear to god when you stand at their feet they notice you.

The May issue of New Mexico Magazine just placed Raton in the state's top 5 weekend getaways. Only they called a foray to Raton a "Mancation". "Bring cigars, single-malt scotch, and bear spray" they said. But don't bring "the gentler sex" 'cause she'll hate it, or something along those lines. I have to disagree.

Testosterone can sometimes get in the way of noticing the small things, like silky soft, tangerine layers of pine bark. And I bet not too many men would notice it smells of vanilla in the afternoon sun. Especially if one happens to be smoking cigars and drinking scotch... ;)

The rugged beauty of the wilderness, its powerful and delicate natures both, are for anyone who happens to be alive inside. This girly loves the woods...