[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness, is seen from above, standing on a couple of boulders; he’s sniffing at a clump of mostly-brown grass to his left. Beyond him are the dark, turbid waters of the Arkansas River. ]
I was … pretty okay with this.
[ Loiosh’s hindpaws are still on the same rock, but he’s stretched his front half out, nearly over the water, forepaws on another rock, to try to reach a particular blade of grass. His head is tucked under a tuft of grass, and he’s straddling his leash, which runs directly upwards toward the camera. ]
I WAS MUCH LESS OKAY WITH THIS PLEASE DO NOT FALL INTO THE RIVER
IT DOES THIS
[ A view across the river. The riverbed has been built up between narrowed banks so that a standing wave rushes over an arch in the bed, then crashes down into breaking seafoam. ]
I’d spent half the ride up on the phone with my mom, & we were talking about the surfing wave in the Arkansas in Salida; I’d planned to take pictures of it on my last trip, but then there was accidentally the fiber festival, & I plain forgot.
[ A closer view of the upper part of the standing wave — the surface of the river is smoothly rippled as it runs down into the turbulent foam beneath. ]
There wasn’t anyone on it that day — there might’ve been, earlier, when there was some sun on it, but even in a wetsuit, there’s limits.
[ A closer view of the surf below the standing wave. The water flows under the the leading edge of the foam, which is whitest and wildest at that boundary, then slowly calms over the next twenty or thirty feet until it’s back to the usual smooth flow of the river. ]
I could watch people surfing there for hours — far longer than Loiosh has the patience for. Eventually he wants to go find some grass. Or, in this case, some more grass, ideally some that wouldn’t get him grumbled at for trying to fall in the river.
originally posted on Patreon; support me over there to see posts a week early!
[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness with a blue bow tie, is sitting in his blue cat stroller. He and the stroller are both facing to the right; his ears are perked forward. Behind him is the remains of a beautiful Colorado sunset; otherwise it’s getting pretty dark out. ]
Jasper, as always, traveled to OVFF, & as always I had to pick his ass up in Denver afterwards. I’d planned a bunch of errands on the way up, adding extra time to the trip to account for this, & when everything actually went as planned (I know, whaaaaaat) I wound up with about a half hour to kill, just around sunset.
I was in Denver. There was a park two blocks away. That’s just how it goes, in Colorado.
[ Loiosh is still in the stroller, looking more-or-less at the camera now. ]
My boy was perfectly pleased to be decanted from the van into the stroller, covered with my flannel, & wheeled along to the lakeshore trail. I was less pleased; it was COLD, & even with my vest I was cold, & I really wanted my flannel, but Loiosh is old & creaky & you know how THAT goes.
Fortunately for all Loiosh got bored pretty soon.
[ Loiosh, halfway through the process of climbing down from the stroller. One paw’s balanced on the edge, and my flannel is sliding off his hinder parts. ]
I stepped on his leash just long enough to fling my vest off, fling my flannel on, fling the vest back on over it, and shove my hands into my armpits before it was time to follow Loiosh. Who, other than a brief pause to not actually eat grass …
[ Loiosh is standing on a sparsely graveled path, next to a narrow stretch of mostly-frozen grass. Behind him is taller, winter-dry brown grass. with a few houses in the background. Loiosh is intently staring off to the right. ]
… trot trotted the whole way back to the van, & all I had to do was follow him.
[ In the extreme foreground is the front of the stroller; most of the rest of the photo is a very nice concrete path leading off towards a clump of trees in the background. Loiosh, trailing a length of rope, is a few feet ahead off the stroller and to the right, busily trotting along. ]
It was a lovely little break, the perfect spot to stretch my legs, just long enough for the hot chocolate I’d bought to reach a drinkable temperature. & enough exercise for the boy that he slept all through me rearranging stuff in the van before it was time to head to Arrivals. It’s a nice park; I wouldn’t mind living nearby.
originally posted on Patreon; support me over there to see posts a week early!
[ In the very foreground, a strip of road; past that, mostly-snowed-over fields rising slowly to the very base of a range of mountains that rises sharply to tall, triangular peaks. No foothills here. ]
The great thing about living in Colorado is the mountains.
I first fell in love with mountains — real mountains, nothing against the ancient Appalachians, but I need young mountains — in 1988, in Zürich, staring in awe at the Alps rising to the south; in Vaduz, just to the east, in their midst. In Oberammergau, at their very edge, before descending to the plains on the road to Munich.
I first fell in love with mountains — real mountains, sharp peaks still snow-covered, serrated & silhouetted dark against a ridiculously blue sky — in 1994, in Jackson Hole, staring in awe at the Tetons all around, remembering mountains I’d carefully forgotten. In Idaho, in a sharp valley in the Sawtooth Range, the sun only visible for a few hours around noon, though the light lingered until near midnight. I tried to remember them. I wanted to remember them.
I first fell in love with mountains — having forgotten, again, for more than a decade — in 2005, above Denver, circling over the mountains on approach to the airport. In Longmont, staring in awe at Long’s Peak & Mount Meeker dominating the horizon to the west. In Rocky Mountain National Park, twelve hundred feet high already, staring at the Never Summers looming further west.
& then, as every time, I went ‘home’, back to humid, polluted, overcrowded Urbia Suburbia, otherwise known as eastern Pennsylvania, until I finally did the best thing I’ve ever done for myself, shoved everything I owned into a cargo container & into my lil car, & drove west.
The moment I saw mountains again, halfway across Colorado’s broad eastern plains, I had to pull over to cry.
I haven’t forgotten, not since that day.
[ This time the road stretches from the bottom right of the photo, off into the distance and around a wooded curve. To the left, snowy hills rise up to a serrated line of snowy peaks. ]
I spent four glorious, heartbreaking years in Colorado, healing, remembering how to breathe (not only metaphorically; turns out living in a steel town, in a house with a toxic waste dump for a basement, is … not good for lungs?), learning who I was. Who I am. Until someone I’d loved betrayed me, & I had to leave again.
I was away for three or four years, I don’t remember which, back in Appalachia, beautiful & ancient but never, ever quite high enough. & then finally I found my way back to my mountains. I could breathe again.
& then, because life goes in spirals, or at least mine does, I had to leave again. This time for New Mexico, which at least had some mountains, I could get up over ten thousand feet at Sandia Crest, & it was more than nothing. It was, at least, blessedly dry, blessedly uncrowded.
But it wasn’t right, & I missed my mountains.
After ANOTHER three years away, on a trip to Colorado for the first time in far too long, I caught my first sight of mountains, pulled over, burst into tears, & swore, ‘the next time I move to Colorado, I’M NOT LEAVING AGAIN’.
It wasn’t the cluebat that hit me. It was a great big gong, which also happened to be saying ‘oath accepted’.
In the words of kids these days … welp.
[ The road runs from lower left to upper right; an old wooden building anchors the very center of the shot. To the right, a bank of clouds with white peaks just visible; to the left, lower, more rounded mountains, with two high, sharp, snow-white peaks beyond them. ]
Which took yet another two years & a truly appalling amount of work. & even with that, it all happened faster than I could be ready for; but by the time we had to leave, I’d built Tyrava, I owned five acres of land, & most importantly, I wasn’t doing it all alone.
I live in Colorado again. WE live in Colorado. We see the mountains most every day — & when we don’t, it’s because there’s clouds (or dust) in the way. I’ve gotten past having the breath knocked out of me every time I see them — mostly — but I never get used to them.
[ Most of this shot is the road, a pair of headlights faint in the distance, light trails of windblown snow trailing across it. The road disappears into cloud and more snow in the distance, but much closer, at the very top of the shot, there’s still blue sky. ]
I hope I never do.
originally posted on Patreon; support me over there to see posts a week early!
[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness and blue bow tie, sits facing a long sprig of catnip. He’s got his head tilted, facing away from the camera, contemplating the flowers at the tip of the stem. ]
Further along the same path Loiosh found even better foliage — catnip. He was EXTREMELY pleased.
[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness, stands on a nice big rock, sniffing at a clump of grass. One ear is back, and the other is stuck out sideways. ]
[ A view of the Arkansas river, here a shallow stream perhaps thirty feet wide. It’s bordered by large rocks on either side, then by trees in a variety of shades from summer green to bright aspen yellow. Peeking between the trees, far upstream, is the peak of a snow-capped mountain. ]
I hadda run up to Salida anyways, so I figured I might as well make a trip of it.
[The road stretches out through the center of this wide shot; at the distant horizon, a hint of snow-covered mountains blends into the low clouds. The road is tree-lined on the left side; snowy fields on the right lead up to a snow-roofed barn.]
I haven’t been talking about it much, mostly because STRESS & I dunwanna, but we’re coming up on the end of our time in our winter haven. It’s time to move. Also the van registration was due, for which I needed the title, which was in Alamosa, so I decided to work on two problems at once by loading up the van & driving south.
[Loiosh, an orange tabby, is hunkered up in the front seat of the car, butt in the air, forepaws tucked close to his hindpaws, face shoved into the seat. He looks extremely awkward.]
I don’t know what he was doing here, I really don’t.
[A view across a field of short brown grass. Houses line the horizon, and behind them rises Mount Blanca, topped with snow.]
The boys had a vet visit … which, since we’re going to be moving there soon, was in Alamosa. But since we aren’t in Alamosa yet, it was a bit of a haul.
I left a bunch of extra time for the drive, though, so we had time to wander around the park a bit first.
[ Two tall Ponderosa pines stand below white skies. Each is dusted with light snow, and snowflakes are visible falling past them. ]
The problem with moving is the amount of STUFF involved, & in this case, by STUFF I mean ‘my prescriptions’ & ‘the place that has the warranty for the van’s transmission’ & also ‘that PO box I opened in Prewitt’. So last week I hadda head south for a couple days to fetch back my Stuff.
Of course, this happened to happen right when the first snow of the year was also happening.
[ A small thirteen-striped ground squirrel, perhaps three inches long not counting his tail, is crouched on dry grass, looking up at the camera. ]
… at least the first two are; the others are DEFINITIVELY large, but, well.
Look at this lil dude! So brave! I suspect they get fed by campers a lot.
… to be fair, I’d dropped a cheese ball or two earlier.
Look, they just really like cheese balls.
[ The same lil dude is up on his hind legs, nibbling on something small and black that’s held between his front paws and is not a cheese ball. His tail is laid out behind him in a gentle curl. ]
The sunsets were AMAZING. I wish I’d had the energy to climb up on the van or something so I could get pics without RVs in the way, but after the chaos of moving out without a place to move INTO, we were all too exhausted for that kind of shenanigans.
… tbh we’re STILL to exhausted for that kind of shenanigans. But anyway.
[ Sunset over the lake. A narrow sliver of lake is visible along the center of the photo; below it are the silhouettes of RVs, and above it rise the mountains. The sunset glows orange along the horizon, fading to pale and then into blue at the top of the photo. ]
Can you see the crescent moon? Have another view:
[ The view is a bit closer, the colours are a bit brighter, and the crescent moon is just barely visible in the upper left corner. ]
It did this EVERY NIGHT. We stayed at Antero Reservoir for a week, and had a lovely time.
originally posted on Patreon; support me over there to see posts a week early!
[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness, is meatloafed up on a green picnic table. His ears are stuck out at a variety of angles and he’s giving the camera some pretty epic side-eye. ]
After FAR too long, Loiosh got to go to fighter practice again! & this is how he felt about it.
… okay, look, no, he WAS really happy to be seeing people again, I just maybe didn’t get the best pics of the process.
[ Major Tom, a big grey tabby, is half-curled on the van’s dashboard, staring off to the right. His head is resting on one forepaw. The windshield behind him is pretty dirty. ]
Tom didn’t wind up with much time for adventuring on our trip to Colorado, alas. Partly due to most of our stops being at fighter practice, which involves PEOPLE, but also cos we didn’t wind up with time to stop anywhere he’d be able to get a good ramble.
I’ll have to make it up to him, but in the meantime, he spent a lot of time flopped on the dashboard.
[ Loiosh, an orange tabby, is sitting in a bright orange plastic baby swing, one hind leg sticking out below, both forepaws curled around the top edge. His ears are very slightly stuck out to the side. ]
We spent the weekend in Colorado again, mostly for the purpose of moving stuff to the storage place, but we did manage to hit TWO fighter practices on Sunday, in Aarquelle & Dragonsspine.
Given the time gap in between, we had about an hour to wander around a park in Colorado Springs before anyone else showed up. There was a playground, so naturally I stuck Loiosh in a baby swing.
[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness, is in the foreground of the shot; his stroller is facing a paddock full of fluffy white lambs, but he has turned away. Most of the lambs are looking at him, ears perked forwards. ]
Loiosh also got to visit the lambs, who were VERY curious but VERY loud about it, which he really didn’t love.
[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness, is sitting in a blue cat stroller. He’s facing a curious alpaca, who’s white with the loveliest dark eyes. The alpaca is leaning forward curiously; Loiosh is ducking back just a bit. ]
Loiosh got to meet alpacas. He was … not sure about this.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
