It’s almost September, and it already feels like fall.
I’m thinking back to last year, last Labor Day. Our tent city in the dry grass fields and sunlit Ten Sleep Canyon. Warm days playing in the river and cool afternoons pulling on pocketed limestone cliffs. Hiking back to camp with our headlamps on to join all our friends around the fire. Sleeping under the stars, all lined up in our sleeping bags.
This year everything feels different. It’s been raining quite a bit and the normally blue Colorado skies have been grey, mist hanging heavy over the Flatirons. Where is our indian summer, the last few hot days?