I moved to Colorado two years ago. Until then I had lived in the southeastern part of the United States my entire life—the lush, moist, shady, humid South. And now I was in the West. In actuality, the semi-arid high plains. I live at 4, 954 feet, where the Great Plains meet the Rocky Mountains. In our backyard is a little bump of land that announces the foothills to come. It is a place where you can tell the age of a neighborhood by how tall the trees are, because nearly every single one of them, with the exception of the native cottonwoods, has been planted by a human.
While I have spent the last two years looking for shade (our part of Colorado boasts as many sunny days as Miami), I have also been in awe of the landscape here. It is stark, severe, and wildly beautiful. It is the home of prairie dogs, coyotes, foxes and raptors. All of which have been spotted in our neighborhood. I have decided that my life was very “tame” until I moved here. I almost never saw wildlife, and now I see it on a regular basis. I also never, until now, got a feeling for the lay of the land.
Former Columbian presidential candidate, Ingrid Betancourt, rescued recently after being held hostage for six years in the jungle, said that living in the jungle was extremely difficult. One reason being that, because of all the trees, she could not see the horizon and this was incredibly disorienting.
So I have decided I have a new reason to be grateful. I can see the horizon every day of my life. Surrounded by sky, I get a sense of exactly where I stand on this vast landscape and any feelings of grandiosity fade away.
I love it here.
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Your blog is interesting!
Keep up the good work!