Since our almost-5-year-old granddaughter visited us not long ago, I’ve gotten more and more curious about what to call a rather prominent area landmark. Most of us know it as Mt. Garfield, which was named for the president who was assassinated back in the day.
Farther back in the day? I don’t know what it was called. My searches have come up empty so far, but I did learn about two hiking trails that will lead me to the summit.
No disrespect to President Garfield, may he RIP as one hopes he has done since 1881, but I would rather call it by whatever name indigenous people called the mountain.
In the meantime, I’m going to go with what my granddaughter called it: a Big Dirty Thing.
That will work for a while – maybe BDT, for short – even though we have quite a few other BDTs here in Mesa County.
If you know what that BDT was called way back when, please let me know.
Red Dog Smith and I ventured out of the office late this morning for a walk down to the river. Mrs. Smith was out hiking with some friends after ignoring my sage advice to always have a pocket knife when hiking. Who doesn’t carry a pocket knife into the wild?
Anyhow, the river isn’t far, and we got all the short way there without seeing another human being or another canine. We decided we are OK with having a trail completely to ourselves now and then.
On the way back, it got busy. We saw a total of three human beings – one walking his black Lab, two others going different directions on their bicycles.
To be more specific, we saw three elderly guys. All three had what some would call white hair, but I prefer to characterize as silver.
Sensing a pattern here?
Seeing three people in half an hour or so is what passes for busy in our rocky little chunk of Mesa County.
We also saw:
Two quick-footed lizards.
Contrails criss-crossing the clear blue sky.
An enormous flat-topped mountain to the east of us.
On the way back, almost at the front door, I realized I have become some guy who writes about his lunch break now and then. I am OK with that. Red doesn’t seem to care.
If you had been out for a walk this morning before breakfast with me and Red Dog, we would have shown you this spot. It’s hard to capture with a smartphone, or with any other sort of camera for that matter, at least for this amateur photographer.
The cliffs above the Colorado River were mostly gray for the first few images I grabbed. I sorted through them for a few minutes as I sat on a bench and Red waited patiently. When I looked up, the sun had broken through some clouds to our left. I shot a few more.
We walked home, thinking about the people we will take to this place on the Colorado Riverfront Trail in just a few weeks. I’m not sure Red understands, but he seems happy enough with the idea. He wagged that tail he is so proud to show off.
Suppose you could keep just one of these books. Which one would it be?
I know, it’s not a reasonable question. Why can’t I keep more than one? Why can’t I keep all of them?
Because I’m the one who got to ask the question, that’s why. 🙂
It’s a question I asked myself on Sunday while I sorted through some of the few boxes we hadn’t yet unpacked after a move to a smaller house. Rather than put a bunch of books in boxes in our backyard shed for someone to sort through down the road, I’m setting some of my favorites free now. They’ll go to a used book store for a few pennies on the dollar or I’ll donate them to a library or otherwise give them away. I’ll figure that out later.
The first step was to decide what will fit on my little shelves in the new place. A couple of homes ago, we had bookshelves covering an entire wall in my favorite room. We thinned that collection substantially before coming to Colorado, then a bit more in the past ten years. As hard as it can be to part with some old favorites, it’s that time again.
I don’t have every John le Carré spy novel but they’ve long been among my favorites. As someone who grew up during the Cold War, served a couple of years in the U.S. Navy, and enjoyed Russian language courses in college, I could easily imagine myself as part of the intrigue even though it was far from my own lived experience.
Still, as much as I enjoyed reading these books, it’s time to let someone else have them – except for one. I could keep a few more, but I’m reserving that shelf space for another author, whose identity I’ll share sometime soon.
Full disclosure: I’ve already decided what to keep, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change my mind.