Seeing colors

It’s getting exciting. I’m talking about what’s going to happen after the Cambodian experience. My friend and I are making plans when I arrive in Denver in mid-August.

She has asked me to stay in Vallecito for as long as I want, so I’m looking forward to be in the mountains in the fall…the most beautiful time of the year in Colorado.

Fall always reminds me about the years we lived in Vallecito, high in the mountains northeast of Durango. We volunteered to host two Welch men who were touring with a Welch choir.

We picked them up in Durango and drove them to our home, and that evening we took them to the Buffalo Gap, a cowboy hang out, where they drank beer and sang. Cowboys came in and dropped their jaws when they heard the sounds coming from our two guests, and some more singers who were hosts of other folks in nearby homes.

We happened to also be hosting a trio of Germans during the same weekend. Well needless to say, they all got drunk, and the next morning, one of the Welsh guys came into the kitchen for coffee.

I took him and his cup of coffee out to the back yard, where the trees around the river and in our yard were showing their red, orange, green, brown, burgundy leafy colors.

“Oh, my gawd, this is so beautiful, I gawt a lump in me throat.” He later told me that what he saw that morning impressed him, like no other natural scene he had ever seen.

I can’t wait to see the colors.

 

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