Archive | April, 2016

fragile.

15 Apr

I am a frequent visitor of a local coffee shop known as the Pourhouse. It’s the kind of place where you walk in and everyone knows your name, you can always count on getting the scoop on the local gossip, and perhaps take a moment to admire photos of the “sick lines” enjoyed by one of the barista’s during his most recent pow sesh.

This morning upon my arrival, I inquired as to the well-being of one of my favorite baristas, Dave. Due to previous conversations, I knew that he was planning on leaving the county for greener pastures and because I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, I assumed that he had already left.

I was shocked to learn that he had passed away last week; hit a tree while skiing at Breck and had died upon impact. I had heard about a death at Breck last week, but details had not been released and in the midst of end of season chaos, I had brushed the news off with little consideration.

It’s funny how the gravity of that consideration changes when you realize that you knew the person, not just knew, genuinely enjoyed the company of the person involved. Life is  fragile thing and I guess when your time is up, your time is up.

Cheers Dave. Your happy, adventurous spirit will be missed. We’ll ski some sick lines in your honor this weekend.

moosing around.

9 Apr

There is a family of moose who have taken up residence in Summit Cove, specifically around Tally Ho Court.

A few times a day, Mama Moose takes her twins on a stroll, stopping occasionally to sample the local fare, namely Aspen trees and loose ground cover.

The twins, though new to ‘moosing’ and still working out the kinks of their spindly legs, follow along gamely; pausing every once in a while to observe the neighbors observing them.

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out like lamb [not so much].

6 Apr

March oh March. Where have you gone?

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ebb and flow.

5 Apr

You know what’s interesting?

My thinking spot in Chicago was a spot right on the lake; a little spot as far out on a little point of land as you could go without leaping into the icy depths of Lake Michigan. A spot way away from the noise of the road and hustle and bustle of the city.

Here, in the midst of the beauty and seclusion of our mountainous sentials, I still find myself reflecting on my life in a little spot right on the banks of Lake Dillon. It’s not always the most secluded or the quietest, but I still find myself seeking out the ebb and flow of the water and the wind.

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