Sometimes I wonder why we live in Colorado. The “springtime in the Rockies” thing is becoming tiresome as yet another bout of snow and cold has descended on us.
If I wanted to participate in old-fashioned May Day traditions like leaving flowers on the neighbors’ doorsteps, I would have to shovel the walkways, unbury the insanely resilient pansies from the snow, pick them with mittened hands, stomp through the snow to the neighbor’s front door, and remove the mitten to ring the doorbell. As I attempt to run away and hide I would slip on the ice and crack my head open. Imagine our neighbors’ surprise seeing me laying on crushed purple pansies, sporting a head wound. I can’t remember if the tradition then calls for the neighbor to pinch me or kiss me—either way, they would probably decline in favor of dialing 911 to haul me away for an MRI.
Indulge me while I try to remember why we live in Colorado…
Oh, yeah.
What’s funny, is I just got back from taking a picture of that 600 pound balancing boulder.