Clouds form an infinite variety of shape and color to the west as the sun settles beyond the Cochetopa Hills. A small group stands on the back porch of Oak House watching the slow transformations, the unfolding of patterns. Some, like me, have cameras...catching the moments, trying to somehow freeze and possess the spectacle. Others only watch..someone has forgotten her camera...a good thing she says since she must now concentrate on each movement...like listening to a symphony instead of taking pictures of the orchestra.
Sometimes, though, you have to pull back and take in more of the sky, more of the land. The San Luis Valley here is about 30 miles across from the western foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountais to the early eastern slopes of the San Juans. The sagging boards of the back porch are attached to those eastern foothills...we think of ourselves as being high above the valley floor but behind us the snow covered peaks rise another 6,000 feet. Keeping perspective is not easy.
And then the final drama...the final rays of the sun spread red, gold across the sky. Behind us these bands of color reflect off the high mountain snows, hence the name for the range as "the blood of Christ." Ahhh...those early Spanish explorers were so tormented. And how, in turn, they tormented the those who had been living here prior. Yet the earth continues its daily spin...spinning the cloud formations as it turns. Turning us on the back porch away from the sun...moving us into the darkness of the night sky.
