Biking–and living–in Colorado is pretty great. I am very lucky. Let me show you why. I mean, let me count the ways.
1. The sky.
2. The mountains.
3. The strange things you see while in those mountains.
And…
4.The neat public artwork.
5. The awfully cute and amazing Colorado gals I know, and totally adore.
6. The poetic vibe, too, which inspired this, a few years back.
BLUE HAZE, GOODNIGHT MOON
Black smoke courses along the blank hills,
there is a crack that runs the length of it.
Shouts in far-off dusk, I park. The engine ticks.
Early night heat, late September. Soon the leaves
will collapse their canopies, like so many
umbrellas. Then the summer of fire
will no longer burn my lungs
or clot my eyes, those plumes
stretching from the west.
Upstairs, the kids are asleep, white noise
the shape of a running fan, night light burning
their room gold from within,
a glistening cocoon.
Ten o’clock. I tip-toe in, listen to their sleep,
gaze at their shadow features.
It is like drinking cold water from a well.
Rocky Mountain Biker 