Those who know me know that my blog's title has (at least) two meanings. One is strictly geographical -- I'm living and writing at 8000 feet altitude. The other meaning is metaphysical. I've never been one for the details of daily life, preferring to view the world from a perspective that some would deem as being farther out than left field ... in other words, from somewhere in outer space. Yes, I'm a space cadet, in some peoples' eyes.

From where I sit, I can still see snow on the higher mountains, even though it is mid-July. In the evening, I can sit and watch the deer grazing and sometimes frollicking in the shoulder-deep hay that gives testimony to the recent spate of afternoon rains. Yesterday, I also saw a family of racoons crossing the road. And every day, the bird feeder is emptied by ravens, finches, sparrows, orioles, and even chipmunks who browse on the deck where the birds drop what their greedy beaks cannot hold.

The days are chilly in the morning, hot in the afternoon, and by 9-10 in the evening, the chill starts to set in again. Such is life in the mountains. Lots of stars in the heavens, long vistas in the daylight. And every morning, I cannot resist getting up early enough to watch the sunrise. Too bad I have to break up my time by working. (Guess that last statement would be true no matter where I lived).