Posted by: highmountainmuse | August 19, 2009

Anticipation and acceptance

Elf, Cricket and Canella watching the evenind sun

Elf, Cricket and Canella watching the evening sun

As the wind whips colder each day, the stir of change is in the air.  Ah yes, we feel it, you can smell it, but still, we see it not.  Across the mighty river remains a dark, rich green. The aspen hillside is unchanged, unwavering, there is no visual of a transformation you know is brewing. I feel a promise of a winter soon to come. We look to the mountain around us in anticipation of a different color, the inevitable revolution, spreading across the mountain in a glorious show of dazzling gold.

Nothing yet.  Funny I should look for it…

We wait, we anxiously watch for the first tree to turn, knowing how many weeks are still to wait before the mountain is aglow with the quaking aspen in their fall glory. The vigil of anticipation.

She is unpredictable at times, but steady in the long run.  She’ll throw a curve ball from time to time, the early storm, the twister winds, but hold her leaves until her usual cycle, won’t she? She’ll tease and taunt in her nonchalant manner, making us desire and want more and more and more.  But at the end of the day, the end of the season, she will continue in her path of age old wisdom, that which commands far beyond the reaches of man, no matter how we try to control, alter, adjust.  I hope.

Again I reflect on the inevitability of change, and the beauty of anticipation in our daily life, the spice, the zest, the zing, the thrill of noticing each tiny, little change, and how at loss we would be if we missed it, blinded by our “more important things.”  Like the big storm arriving, or a child’s first step, or the birth of another colt…

And as such I watch the horses grow.  Cricket is nearly three months old, and looks like a small horse, no longer a foal.  Elf (yes, we’re still waiting a name, and he’s definitely out grown this one) is blossoming into a fine young colt.  And our latest, Little E, well, stand back, this boy needs room to grow, room to run, room to roam.  The blessing of space to run wild and free, or so he may believe, and return to the comfort of a soft pile of straw under a shed, by choice, his own free will… Can’t you relate to that?

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Responses

  1. We saw a swamp maple, completely red over the weekend. Hard to believe that some of the trees are deciding to give in already…

    Why is it that some days the changes sneak up on us and some days they seem farther away than forever….

  2. Gin,

    Wow! Love your descritions. Looks like I will need to pack an extra warm coat this year. The past few Septembers have been so nice and cool (not cold). Looking forward to mountains again. Tired to take a float trip on the Rio Grande for some fishing, but they have been canceled due to low water. Looks like all wading this fall. Fun but exhausting.

    Looks like this old guy will earn any trout caught!

    Al

  3. Hi Al,
    Well, all that said about the chilly air, and today was magnificent! I took the afternoon off and rode my little horse in a t-shirt! Perhaps I’m just paranoid…
    But yes again, the river seems extremely low this year. I’m not surprised if the float trips are cancelled.


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