Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Life pushes at the darkness

On the way to Crestone... Drawing closer ..... Crestone Community Flower Planting...  Larry C. Linda Jo C. *Note for those who do either do not get or do not open email... Hello Everyone, Here I am in Colorado in the gorgeous early June green. These photos are unedited, since I am on a MAC that I don't understand. I know I can't exactly make this a mission for the day, but if you can arrange it, even in dead of eary morning or late night, get a small plant, and sneak it into a tree bed or a nearby plot. Be aware, though, that it then becomes your very own and may need watering--unless, of course, you can purchase a very hardy New York Street Plant. Love and best wishes for a blossom-filled day, Linda Jo

The trail is quiet, not a bird breaks the silent, trackless, virgin Colorado Powder. Time itself rests from its relentless, steady, pushing and cracking through to an unmarked path. No spring on the wing, no thaw, no new growth needling its way into a new spring morning. No, not yet.

Our hardy photographer was again exploring the myths and sagas of the Ancient West, when he or she snapped this amazing shot of Green, the legendary protector of the Sinclair station in Southern Colorado.  The rumor is (probably) true!!   Every now and then, just once in a while, Green steps away from his daily vigil and his nightly nap to wander the midnight streets of Fairplay.  Notice the slight turn of the head, the tiny smile, the mischievous gleam of the eye.  To re-enjoy the origin legend of Green, see http://discoveringmeaninginlife.blogspot.com/search?q=green+egg

It's late afternoon in the Arkansas River Valley in Southern Colorado. Cattle graze on the yellow leftovers from the fall harvest, probably alfalfa.

The midnight sky is stuffed with moonlight, but you wouldn’t know it from the afternoon, filled with grey rain along the edges. Two figures walk along the empty road, foreground vivid with the here and now, while the vanishing point draws relentless close. What destinies wait behind that grey horizon, waiting for the early sun to polish up those dreams we left for dead the night before. .

 Around the corner there is a library full of centuries of words hanging onto the shelves. Winter encyclopedias, dark maroon, almost leather, indexed and waiting, full of photographs. Color photos carefully selected, positioned just exactly on the page, heart and soul of a thing. Maps, Charts, Physics in a nutshell, Rome in a fraction of an inch. Me in my blue coat feeling like a leftover good-will bargain table, crumpled up and left for last. Watch your posture, young lady.  The lady says she likes the hat I choose from the second hand bin. Maybe it will have time for a second coming.  I do not select a book right off, it is a sacred act all right. Maybe just a small one, maybe I can taste little bit sunny spring  carrying a spirit  into my upper chest--After all, they say the sap is just below the surface, sticky with life, rich, waiting-- A book! bound with dewy decimals holding its place. The light is on now in this magic space. Oiled wood, ...

One day I chanced to see a blossom the way it was to a bee, and the way it was to a butterfly, who fluttered over by and by. A lady bug climbed a nearby sprout to see what all the fuss was about. Well, "beauty is as beauty does", and the reason it does is Just Because! Summer Solstice Cresone Flower--Photo byLarry C.

Lara C. and Bodie C. sustain one another on a treacherous and exhausting climb up Copper Gulch into the Sangre De Cristo mountains. Undaunted, our brave photographer stopped at nothing and recorded this event for all of us. Ponderosa Pine (?) a la Georgia O'Keeffe Lara, Bodie, and Ponderosa after treacherous hike

I have to have my sustenance; it's not about me. All day I’ve been out herding, so I’m thirsty, you see. I’ve been herding here and herding there, Herding birds and rabbits, But I can't keep them anywhere. They have such terrible habits! I know, I know the saying goes  ‘a watched bowl will not melt’ But what else is there for me do? This is the hand I’ve been dealt. Maybe I could howl and  yowl and bark and learn to scratch, Or maybe I can meditate awhile and just detach, Or maybe I can figure out how to work the latch! I know what’s going to happen though; I’m going to  have to eat some snow. I know how to do it, and it isn't too bad, Just take a bite,and sit tight, and let it melt a tad.   Crestone, back porch with Bodie

Nothing is surprising in Crestone, including the delicate colors and incredible mountain beauty.

Light separates us from the ordinary world, guiding us into the spirit way, pulling figures away from the ground. It’s a blue jay morning in the pinion trees, the dry sun shimmering with feathers, then it's afternoon, with the white cold sun tearing through the mountain colors. Evening comes, and it’s feeding time, deer muzzled in frost and silhouetted. Then night again, with its half-lit rooms and profile faces shining in the firelight. It’s midnight now, and the sky is splintering with stars, each one watching while its being sleeps.

This elegant tree graces the Elephant Cloud Tea Shop with shade in summer and snow in the winter

We are surrounded with beauty, with visions of sugar plums dancing!

Shafts of light slice through the loosened boards Scrabbling along the hay-washed floor dimming down the dusty corners still smelling of the dry harvests. Horse a little restless in her stall. Or is that rustle cut from a different day? Green hayfields full of noisy birds, mixed flocks foraging in sparking swirls, hushing down in the green-yellow grasses. Love pushing into the afternoons, still evenings drenched with dreams. Southern Colorado near Crestone

I was lying fallow as a field when the fey message came-- sneaking down into the chimney passing by the joints and pipes latching up with my being interlocking tongue and groove tossing life into the empty places. Is this the day I was looking for?  Route 285

Some things make perfect sense, especially in Crestone Colorado! Snow Resting on Pan on Fencepost in the Mornng Dark-eyed Junco sitting on Pan of Resting snow on top of Fencepost in Late Afternoon Dark-eyed Junco sitting on Pan of Resting now on top of Fencepost in Late Afternoon (photo ©LJosephCalloway@gmail.com)

I do love an early morning bus ride out of Moffat Colorado! Route 17 near Highway 285 in Southern Colorado. 

Crestone, Colorado with Tree, Snow, and Wet Dog

With something churning in the marrow of her breast, The maiden crept along the cobbles. No hunted looks from creaking doorways; just another covered canyon city full of polygons in grey and black. "Don’t trip now; damn these heels!" she said, stepping carefully among the daydreams. Ranch near Canyonlands, Utah, Easter Saturday  (Photo by Larry Calloway of Crestone)