July thirteenth was calm on the mountain, traces of tree houses testifying to lives once
lived here.
Saturday we went to Walsenburg, caught the latest Fire Map at the Safeway, made a pilgrimage to La Veta for Patsy’s wondrous watercolors, some not particularly excellent food sulkily served
down the street and home in time
to tour some unsung sites before dining with neighbors on our porch,
not a flame to be seen.
Clear skies, smooth sailing, dogs up the creek…
[new boundary markers]
Tomás had said, of his Sun Dance fires, “I’ll take care of it” which Sesame found “arrogant”, but the very next day the rains came so who’s to say that’s not what was meant?
Nonetheless, despite many passionate and eloquent testimonials from the Practitioners, the County kept the burn ban in effect albeit allowed an exemption for the Gardner Chuckwagon’s annual Benefit Barbecue. Although the paper insinuated this discriminated against Religion, it seemed more reasonable to assume it was the difference between a barbecue pit in a churchyard around the corner from the Fire Department as opposed to a bonfire in an open field surrounded by coniferous forest at the base of a mountain eight miles out of town that influenced the decision, but who can say in these dry and troubled times.
We persisted up the aptly named Dry Creek, ciphers written on trees, tails told in the leaves
where the perennial grass clump does not seem to have perked up much
as yet but time and rain will tell
as we swirl towards, well, some apocalypse or other.
My brother-in-law visited on a long transcontinental loop from B.C., juiced up his ride
[connector not shown] from our dryer outlet as we took him up the creek, down
to MOF for the Libre 50th experience
[Julian Wallenborn above; Jim Fowler, with image of my future wife on the slideshow, below]
and La Veta for its ubiquitous deer, dear friends, and dinner.
The weather remained murky [a fire to the south, we heard] throughout Dave’s stay
which was all too brief.
Sun Dance starts Sunday…hoping for Real Rain.