Somebody stop me...
Summer here is just too much fun: concerts, fundraisers and celebrations; Farmers’ Markets and ArtWalks; festivals of art, music, food, wildflowers, you name it. The boss says, “Come work.” And the mountains say, “Come play.” And when the sun finally goes down, I’m as bleary-eyed happy-tired as my son used to be after skating himself into near-oblivion.
I’ve been one lousy blogger this summer. When the choice was playing outside in the sunshine or staying inside to blog, guess which option won out.
But now there’s a hint of autumn in the brisk mornings, a touch of gold in the cottonwoods by the Taylor River and talk of burning the Vinotok Grump. It might be time to catch my breath, water my houseplants – and blog again.
Meanwhile, I’m putting together the story list and collecting photography for the winter issue of the Crested Butte Magazine, and those amazing winter pictures remind me what a magical – and totally different --- season the Crested Butte winter can be. Sure, it’s still filled with celebrations and fun, but there’s a cozy stillness that gives winter a more reflective feel than summer’s ceaseless revelry.
I’ll always take delight in Crested Butte’s summer. But right now I welcome the faint harbingers of autumn, the slowing pace of work and play, the earlier sunsets and cooler mornings. I still want to go play, but perhaps come inside early enough to cook a pot of soup, do a little pondering and maybe write a blog or two.