There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle. Albert Einstein.
When I look around me, the whole world is a miracle. The mountains, the sky, the trees, the bears, and our dogs.
I hope that a miracle is underway in this aspen grove. My friends and I spread huge number of columbine seeds in our forest last fall, including in this aspen grove. The seeds are sleeping right now under a deep layer of snow. I hope that we have new columbine seedlings next spring!
A storm moved into our world today, right in the middle of my snowbike ride. It was sunny when I started on the trails, following in the footsteps of two coyotes.
And, a thick snowy soup had invaded by the time I finished. It's been tough to keep riding even though K can't go with me on snowbike rides anymore. It makes me sad but I know that my spine feel worse if I don't ride.
K took advantage of the day to snooze by the fireplace.
Now, it's still snowing - not too hard but it feels like deep winter outside. The Labraduo loves it.
The softly falling snow speckled K's chocolate fur this evening.
During our evening hike, R had his trademark high-voltage energy. Sometimes it feels like he's going to levitate straight out of his skin with pure energy. He's an inspiring soul - he grabs every instant of joy and fully immerses himself in it. The miracle about R is that he's recently turned a sharp corner, becoming much more focused on us than on the world around him. I can be far more relaxed while hiking with him than I used to be.
I wonder if R's transformation will last? I think so. Miracles can happen.
I live at 8200' in the Front Range of Colorado. I love exploring nature
in the mountains while riding my mountain bike and romping with my
two Labradors. Photography is another passion, including both "normal" photography and trail camera photography of wildlife.
My two dogs are Shyla, a 3-year-old Chocolate Lab, and R, a 7-year-old Black Lab.