Backwoodsnbrush - Mountains N Stuff

Splendid Fairy wren 💙

Silverton, Colorado - by Justin Scudney

Felicity Colorado – instagram.com/caseymac

MOUNT SNEFFLES WILDERNESS AREA COLORADO

On Witness and Respair: A Personal Tragedy Followed by Pandemic

The acclaimed novelist lost her beloved husband—the father of her children—as COVID-19 swept across the country. She writes through their story, and her grief.

My Beloved died in January. He was a foot taller than me and had large, beautiful dark eyes and dexterous, kind hands. He fixed me breakfast and pots of loose-leaf tea every morning. He cried at both of our children’s births, silently, tears glazing his face. Before I drove our children to school in the pale dawn light, he would put both hands on the top of his head and dance in the driveway to make the kids laugh. He was funny, quick-witted, and could inspire the kind of laughter that cramped my whole torso. Last fall, he decided it would be best for him and our family if he went back to school. His primary job in our household was to shore us up, to take care of the children, to be a househusband. He traveled with me often on business trips, carried our children in the back of lecture halls, watchful and quietly proud as I spoke to audiences, as I met readers and shook hands and signed books. He indulged my penchant for Christmas movies, for meandering trips through museums, even though he would have much preferred to be in a stadium somewhere, watching football. One of my favorite places in the world was beside him, under his warm arm, the color of deep, dark river water.

In early January, we became ill with what we thought was flu. Five days into our illness, we went to a local urgent care center, where the doctor swabbed us and listened to our chests. The kids and I were diagnosed with flu; my Beloved’s test was inconclusive. At home, I doled out medicine to all of us: Tamiflu and Promethazine. My children and I immediately began to feel better, but my Beloved did not. He burned with fever. He slept and woke to complain that he thought the medicine wasn’t working, that he was in pain. And then he took more medicine and slept again.

San Juan Mountains, Colorado - by Ryan Dyar

Trying to hide secondary trauma

Sutton Mine Trail

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So I did the majority of this hike! Lol. There is a theme to my earlier hiking experiences. This blog post from Box Canyon Ouray explains in detail the hike and what to expect. This post from 5280 was helpful too.  I was blown away. It was early springtime, especially for the mountains, and everything was a little extra marshy and wet, which was beautiful. Another hiker on the trail had her two dogs who were just diving into the little pools that would collect here and there from the melted snow. There was plenty of that. Melted and unmelted. First, the overlook is gorgeous and worth the what feels like an incline that should take you directly into the sky. Apparently it’s a popular overlook for postcards for Ouray. Then you enter magical marshy and meadowlands, leading to great views of the million dollar highway and the distinct Mt. Abrams. I am eager to finish the hike next season to see Neosho Mine wish is the final point on the trail. The weather got a little dreary after I passed the Bear Creek overlook so I essentially hauled ass after that omen from nature. And made it back to the car safely!

A Patchwork Orange

Ophir, Colorado

Colorful autumnal display in the mountain village of Ophir, Colorado.

Wagons preparing to go through an ice tunnel on the Million Dollar Highway near Ironton, Colorado, late spring of 1888.

via reddit