Rivers still trickle, slowly yes, lower than I’ve ever seen them yes, but still they weave their way through the mountains, invincible. They sing their trickling melody same as they ever have. Their quiet songs sooth my ears and my soul.
The aspens still whisper in the afternoon sun; whisper sweet nothings into the ears of the breeze that tickles their leaves. They wiggle together in an endless dance, the swirling breeze and the whispering aspens, swaying and twisting and laughing and singing along to the rivers tune.
The butterflies still flutter with silky wings on summer winds. The sun still beats down his relentless rays driving people into the shade and air conditioned living rooms. The moon still illuminates the night, gently coaxing residents from their homes like ground hogs in February; swaddling them in rays of comforting light.
This is Summer time in Steamboat.
And yet while all these things remain the same, something is blatantly missing. An elephant in the valley if you will.
Our beloved blue bird skies have been bleached white by the smoke of our burning neighbors. The smoke has drifted from earth knows where and covered us in a sheet of haze.
The smell of campfire permeates everything. A constant reminder of the power of Mother Earth and just how fragile the whispering aspens can be.
Pray for Colorado. Dance for rain. Send energy. Meditate. I don’t care what it is you do, just do it for the mountains and the rivers and the butterflies and the aspens.