The long way home

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The show opening was well attended, and the art was gorgeous. Awards were given, photos taken, snacks shared, a lovely night. In the morning while having breakfast we went over the stops and errands list, I said with sadness I don’t think we will have time for the back road home. As we completed the first errand, Ed took a sharp turn and we abandoned the list and traded two hours for forty minutes highway drive on the first leg of the back road.

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Always a joy to see the big horns though yesterday we encountered two beauties the mamas and babies remain on higher ground and well tucked in. The smell of damp sage was akin to spiritual. We went in search of meadow larks, but while their songs were plentiful, we saw them in glimpses while they flitted into seclusion. The fancy part of pairing is behind us, but babes will follow.

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We saw one deer and then stopping and looking closer we realized a herd was in the brush and while you would see an ear, or a bit of a back for the most part they were well hidden. It is such a nice feeling to know they are protected in this kind of bracken where you really do have to look hard until you see.  Of course there are a few, wide open, uninhibited spirits that live with little fear.

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The hint of gold was on the mountain in the form of clustered wild flowers waiting for a bit of warmth from the sun. We take what we can get this damp cool spring!

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We drove slowly, with our windows open. We could hear the meadowlark, robins, and bluebirds sing. There were rustlings in the the sage and in the intricate shadow painted where the light fell through pine our eyes actively sought sign and motion. We had left behind the city feeling on the first few miles of dusty road. I am days out of my studio and I feel that call, but the garden is waking up poking through the debris of last years growth. The first humming bird showed in the hedge last night, and my aunts asparagus quiche recipe has been propped on my kitchen windowsill for a week now. It is the time of ground violets and green buds, and if you go looking for meadowlarks but find mountain sheep, well, that’s okay. There is a Swedish proverb that translates, for those who wish to sing, there will always be a song.

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the joy is in the journey.


“Let’s go out past the party lights
Where we can finally be alone
Come with me and we can take the long way home”

Norah Jones

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