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Showing posts with the label crestone

Woman in the Middle

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Woman walking away from the sun near Ridgeview Way * Crestone Colorado, Lara C. * "...In later Theravada texts as well as in Mahayana and Vajrayana Buddhism, the Middle Way refers to the concept, enunciated in the Canon, of direct knowledge that transcends seemingly antithetical claims about existence." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_way

Cottonwood Trees Along the Creek Bed

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Cold blue-white skies Straw stalks bitten down in the harvested field. The horse barely whinnies in the low sun. I snuggle down within the frozen roots and watch the teeth chomping, Milk-soft lips, hoofs stepping one by one, pressing in the earth; I'm quick; I move out of range and continue my surveillance. Warm brown eyes and a forelock of course. A low toss of a mane, Moist breath white as smoke in the cold,  A soft rumbling on the exhale. No flies now, no swishing tails.  Chomp, pull, grind, chomp, chomp pull.. I smell wet melting frost on the yellow ground. I almost hear the cottonwoods along the partly frozen creek, and the rusted iron wheel used to set the sluice gate. White snow patches on the blue mountains,  The evening star at last. Southern Colorado

Moffat Colorado Bus Station

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Pulsing time, capricious and raggedy, thumping its way through a season of moons and the high water marks of yesterday. Gone! Do not plunge after that careless toss of a carefree moment into the galactic eddy, bumping and churning through each forgotten year, spinning at 3 or 4 thousand miles a second. Black Hills Stage Bus Station in Moffat,  Colorado (July 2011) J 

Dinner at the Silver Pie-Tin Restaurant

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He told me he'd be here by now!  I hope he isn't caught in that pressure inversion over the interstate.

Coordinated Camouflage

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It's noon in Crestone.   Mule Deer, protected by muted colors, pauses to observe an admirer, .

The Benefits of Travel

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There’s a dry and powdery snow here, The trees on the mountains are sifted with it. Wintry sun reflects on the pale chamisa, Chamisa, sticky when a person gets too close. I packed a suitcase full of past promises I thought I couldn't do without, But I lost it through an inattentive baggage handler. What happened to those worn and threaded schemes? Where are the lamps that lit those epic trails, Casting away a conquest here a pipe-dream there? What happened to ‘I cannot live without you’? Change came stumbling down the road, trampling and singing.

Shhhhh, Listen!

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Crestone Colorado lies up against the Sangre De Cristo Mountains on the Eastern side of the San Luis Valley. The quiet capatures reality. I’m a Westerner by birth and a City dweller by happenstance. In a quiet place, nature listens. Deer Listening at a Window Junco Listening for a seed

MERRY,HAPPY, BLESSED, SAFE with love to all

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 One   ....  Two... Three!

Our superimposed life.

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What is a wide, closed space?  Do people use commas anymore?  Grammar! I'm a "take it for granted" sort of person.   Just this afternoon I took for granted that I might look out the window of my Brother's home in Crestone and watch the sun go down.  It was going down very well, and so I took a picture while I still had enought light.   Nothing that anti-granted happened, and here's what I saw: but here's what my camera saw:

Oh, Christmas tree.

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There's no way to create your particular tree in a photo.  A christmas tree is simply too personal.  Here's one in my friends home, as yet untrimmed,  filling the room with the fragrances of time.