In Rocky Mountain National Park the little Miata put on the princess and wanted only clear, clean roads. The access to Bear Lake was packed and snowy, with too many hills to make the trip without risking the car’s delicate poise. So we kept to the clear part of Trail Ridge Road, a few miles winding through the first bloom of the Rockies. If I tell you we were awestruck, you would expect no less. If I tell you that the wind sounds like all the breath in the west… if I say that the pines held diamonds in their arms… that one could almost imagine the heartbeat of elk and snowshoe hare, pika and bobcat? Would you be surprised?
Nature makes me quiver. On the way up, we witnessed the devastation from September’s floods. All along the road up to Estes Park, the river had overflowed its banks and scraped out huge chunks of riverbed, sending them downstream with roots and roofs and cellars and lost hopes. The mud along the sides of the road muffled the sound of earth-movers and back-hoes, but I can imagine the roar and rush of water that brought nature to these residents’ backyards, invading, in the space of one large storm, all the sweet stability of their lives. Nature is awe-inspiring and menacing and always by our side.