I’ve been doing a bit of camping here in my West Vail backyard, which means that it must finally be summer. Okay, so temperatures got down to 36 degrees Fahrenheit last night, but the grass is growing, and the trees actually have leaves. I forgot what it feels like to have my feet in ski boots, and my hiking boots are crusted in mud. I plopped down my tent in this nice meadow, up high above the North Trail. And on the hike in, I delighted in seeing the color green:
That’s the Gore Range way back there between the trees, and although there’s still some snow in the runnels, the mountains aren’t blanketed in white as they are in the winter. In the winter, everything is either white or brown, so seeing purple flowers at this time of the year is a treat:
This morning, as I was inside my tent and shuffling things into my backpack, I caught sight of a fox loping by just outside. It came within about two feet of my tent as it crossed the meadow.
I crept outside and watched it prance into the aspens and out of sight. The fox couldn’t have been at all bothered that I was there, but I was awed by it…the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since waking up to six inches of snow on my deck.