Most mornings, as first light hits the lichen-covered rock outside our living room window, a small, white-chested bird appears and belts out a song. And I mean belts! (more…)
As I shouldered my skis and started up the hike to Highland Bowl last weekend (on Aspen’s closing day), the clouds parted briefly revealing a line of skiers, tiny in the distance, working imperceptibly up the ridge. (more…)
Closing weekend at the ski area was all about flight.
Not flight from Telluride, though that too was about to happen, as locals who have been working since before Thanksgiving flee the sudden quiet and the retreating snows.
No, this was about the little girl standing rock still near the picnic tables at the top of the mountain hoping to lure a camp robber with a cracker in her outstretched hand. (more…)