The changing scene

They say that Coyote is "The Trickster." Today, he was up to his tricks, hunting ground squirrels in the deep hay just in front of the house.

He has been playing a few good tricks this summer. For example, he brought on a very heavy band of rainfall that has left the hay as deep as it has ever been. He brought some Hawaiian-kine rainbows to the hills of Colorado. Incidentally, the "pot of gold" is just about where the coyote was standing when I took his picture.

And the worst trick of all, he made me grow another year older while I was spending the summer in Colorado. But then, it's all in how you look at it. I'll always be a "child." We even played "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" for my birthday!

Cheers, everyone. Hope you're staying as young as I am!

Oh, yeah. One more picture. I should have posted this one down below when I was blogging about Taos, but forgot. The trickster, and the picture of Ken, reminded me of shamanism. This fellow is shaman from Taos Pueblo. His eagle-feather fans start at $10,000 ... a matter of supply and demand, since only native-americans are allowed to collect eagle feathers, and he has to provide documentation so that the feathers can be traced back to their point of origin.

Peace, Don

A Different Routine

I'm on a different routine now, since Wyn left for England to get a bit of British culture, and son Tristan is firmly ensconsed in Japan, teaching English in the public schools of Shirahama, in Wakayama Prefecture.

I put Wyn on the train in Glenwood Springs and she suffered all the way to NYC on the slow, cold, uncomfortable train (whatever happened to the old days of wonderful train rides???). She then packed all her toiletries into her suitcase, thanks to the British terrorist plot, and flew off to England. By the time of her first phone call, she had already been to see the Boshoi Ballet doing Don Quixote, and then was off to France with a friend to spend a few days in Le Touquet. She'll stay in England long enough to see the premieres of the Henry plays in Stratford, then she'll join me back in Hawaii. Boy, some people will do anything to avoid hot ... and cold ... weather! (wink wink).

So what am I doing? Working. Watching my brother build a house. Watching the wildlife. Going on side trips (to Denver for a golf school ... can you believe, my brother actually WON Phil Michelson's putter?). And starting to pack, since I'll be leaving Colorado sometime shortly after Labor Day. Sigh. And read the post above this one, if you haven't already. The animals, the scenery ... wow.

Enchantment

Made a weekend jouney down the hill to Taos, New Mexico, which is only 7000 feet above sea level, a welcome relief from the 8000 feet in Snowmass (just kidding). Stopped on the way into town at the Earthship Visitor Center, which has a community of 50 earthships, all off the grid, just north of Taos. Now I want to build an earthship. If you ever get a chance to visit, do. It is absolutely amazing!

The other amazing thing about Taos is that it is the home of my IONS wizzard friend, Ken Ebert. No, we'd never met except in cyberspace, but it took all of five minutes to track him down, based solely on his job description. After Ken got off work, we met for dinner at the Guadalajara Grill, a short walk from our motel room and a short drive from Ken's house. Had a wonderful visit, and given Ken's predilection for the word, I've labeled the picture below the "Dos Compadres."


Today, Ken is heading up the hill on his day-off bike ride, and Wyn and I will visit Taos Pueblo, a Tewa Indian village that has been continuously inhabited since something like 1350. I also plan to visit an exhibit of DH Lawrence paintings in the Taos Hotel. Lawrence spent time here, among other notable authors.

And tomorrow morning, before we set off for the return run to Snowmass, we may look at some local real estate. Saw some very enticing foreclosures advertised in one of the free real estate mags. If we could pick up something and rent it out for awhile, it would give us just one more excuse to visit Taos again. Maybe Ken and I could start a new writer's colony down here in the land of enchantment.

By the way, since Ken is always writing about his shamanistic encounters with wildlife, I found it highly significant that we saw a wild bobcat just as we were leaving the ranch for the drive down south, and then came across a herd of mountain goats.

Writing Projects

I'm still working full-time, but I'm definitely working toward finding a way to work for myself more. One step in that direction is this weekend's "Ultimate Travel Writing" workshop. I figure that I can combine my writing skills with my love of travel to open up a new market for myself. So I'll be starting to pile up bylines in a new type of publication ... no more 10 pound computer books in the future, although there may be more slim volumes of poetry still in me.

Also, I'm helping edit a book called "Smiles" written - dictated - compiled - illustrated by my friend Elan Sunstar. The book is well on the way to being completed, and has the potential to be a huge success. Given Sun's energy and determination, one of my by-lines in the future may be sitting on the best-seller list. Smile.

A Jaw-dropping Experience

This feels almost like old news already. The other night, I fell out of bed and injured myself. It could have been a lot worse.

I have nightmares sometimes, and have become very active in my sleep. I talk out loud, to the point that I sometimes disturb others. On the night in question, I don't remember all the details, but I do remember two alien creatures who looked very much like cannister vacuum cleaners. One of them was outfitted with a large saw blade like those used to saw a log into planks. They decided that the car near me was a threat, so they started moving toward the car. They were not concerned with me, just the car, but they didn't notice me. The one with the saw blade headed straight toward me, and just as the saw started to cut into my body, I rolled out of the way and screamed to get its attention. When I rolled, I smashed my chin on a bedside table, biting through my tongue. I woke up on the floor and thought my jaw may have been broken, it was so numb.

Some comments from friends ... sleep with a mouthguard next time you go flying ... you're supposed to leave your body behind when you fly in your dreams ....

Anyway, my tongue is still somewhat sore, but I can eat most foods, and can talk almost normally. Lesson learned -- it's okay when my dreams disturb others, but when they start threatening me as well, it's definitely time to go to a sleep clinic.

And no more of these "alien abduction" stories, I promise.

Noticed that my pics didn't show up on the post below this one, so here are the folks I hiked with ... friends Allan and Carly, and my wife, Wyn.

Hiking in the wilderness

Spent the day hiking up to Crater Lake, which is nestled just below the Maroon Bells. Gorgeous hot day, so it was good to get up to high altitude (around 10,500 feet). Lots of wildflowers, such as the lupine shown here.

What is it about the wilderness that is so special?

It is ephemeral, the air is charged. Kayyam wished that "Wilderness were Paradise enow." But it never is. There is always the next day, after a tired night's sleep, then back to work with daily life.

And I enjoyed the good company of my wife Wyn as well as friend Carly and Allan.

The world from up here

The summer is hot.

Yesterday, it was in the high 80's. I rode my bike 22 miles down-valley to attend a natural living fair, which had booths on solar electric, sustainable living design, holistic nutrition, etc. It is nearly time to start working on plans for a house, so I'm looking for ideas.

One group there at the fair is a chiropractic group that is establishing a 38,000 square foot alternative and complementary health center in Basalt. I confirmed that they will have a group exercise space large enough that I could host medical qigong workshops there, should I want to, and could even lease space and set up a naturopathic practice. Something to think about for the future.

Friends Carly and Allan are visiting from Denver, and they hiked up to Conundrum hot springs yesterday, an 18 mile hike. Today, they are going up to the Maroon Bells, but may already be too late to beat the 8:30 road closing, after which only a shuttle bus runs up the road. May go along, but don't really feel like a day on the tourist trails. I may instead see what today's concert is at the music festival in Aspen. I have tickets for the rehearsal, or could go sit on the lawn outside and enjoy the music accompanied by the twittering of birds, and the children playing on the lawn once they get bored.

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).