Longmont — Running up a trail I take a couple times a week, I hopped a few rocks around a father toddling up with his daughter, she 3 or 4 years old, I guessed. As I passed she said, “That’s a goo hikeh.” “Yes...
Longmont — In the middle of those towns that have been underwater for days is a long stretch of land surrounded by faraway ridges that sweep like waves. It’s been (so thankfully) safe and still under a deluge th...
Longmont — to recall the name of a red, black, and white-banded variety, my mom first said, “Hay.” Then, “Barn.” “No, cows.” “Milk. They’re milk snakes.”
Longmont — When I was here last summer, a trio of rabbits would often race around the outside of the whole house. I watched them pass by and by and by, sometimes faster, sometimes slower. Until one of them saw t...
A goo hiker.
A hundred barn swallows bobbed through the cut grass, sifting and lifting up again.
Lightning silently highlighting clouds across the dark night sky.
Standing under the day's hottest sun, side by side and tail to nose, swatting flies.
(Colorful) Colorado was the Buffalo Plains State, the Lead State, the Columbine State, the Rocky Mountain State, and Mother of Rivers.
A chorus of crickets has sprung up, protesting sudden heat and humidity, as thick and soporific as the air itself.
Puppies at 19 days old, quite lovingly fantastic.
Pilots are celebrating. Socked in for days, the horizon is translucent again, like butter left out.
It is not even dark. The moon is not out. The sky is still full of periwinkle. But a coyote is howling.
At dinner we discussed the fox, the coyote, the bobcat. No one mentioned the moon.
Continuing our conversation about snakes,
I'm just sitting down to work, at the desk below a west facing window, in the basement of the house I grew up in.