It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

 I noticed the gum straightaway. Blue and pink and white and all of it the worse for wear. Gum doesn’t weather well when stuck to the underside of a desk. 

The next thing I noticed was that there were some bad words cryptically handwritten in #2 pencil: “Miss Davis is reelly meen”. You’ll have to excuse the spelling. Sixth graders are notoriously ahead of adults when it comes to slaughtering the English language. OOOH! I thought, someone’s going to be in reel truble if Miss Davis sees this. Of course that wasn’t about to happen. The undersides of these desks were only visited by tykes like me whenever the sirens went off announcing another drill. “Quickly Quickly! Under you desks children! Remember Hands over your heads!” 

This was the 1960’s which to today’s generation is the Age of the Dinosaurs. But back then even though I dearly loved Dinosaurs I wasn’t one yet. I was just a kid, one of thirty in my classroom, along with ten other classrooms in my school all staring intently out the window hoping not to see a bright flash. At least when I wasn’t mesmerized by the gum and secret messages above me.

The modern world has come such a long way. We’ve come from scaring the bejesus out of elementary school kids with the threat of nuclear annihilation to scaring the bejesus out of them as they hide huddled in dark corners with the lights out and doors blockaded during lockdown/lockout drills. The dinosaurs are still with us. 

Did you read the Denver Post today? Of course not, you say - who reads Newspapers anymore?!? Like really?!? Well, this old dinosaur for one. I love the look and feel of a real newspaper. Turning the pages on a Sunday morning is an indulgence in pure tactile pleasure. Of course, today being a Monday I read it online (I only get the Sunday paper thrown onto my porch anymore). Shame though, as today’s front page would have been a keeper for the ages. I know some folks who save old editions of newspapers, especially those featuring momentous occasions. Kudos to them - these relics of the past are true dinosaurs - not Tyrannosaurus but rather the cute cuddly ones we like to fondly remember. 

Online or in print the headline was equally startling: “NUCLEAR FORCES ON HIGH ALERT”. Didn’t take the editors long to come up with that one. Of course we’ve lived all these years since the age of the dinosaurs back in the 50’s and 60’s with the deeply repressed awareness that there were missiles with nuclear bombs aimed at us but who gave them much thought? The gum and secret messages of our lives took all of our attention and neither I or any of my classmates ever did see the flash through the window. 

Perhaps you’ve heard of the doomsday clock. The clock was created in 1947 by the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists to convey how close humanity is to destroying itself. For the past two years its been set at 100 seconds to midnight (midnight being the point at which all the lights go out for us as Humankind). The 100 second mark is the closest to midnight that the clock has ever registered and reflects a world at risk not just from nuclear destruction but from conventional war, famine, climate change, and yes - COVID. Tell you what, wearing a mask compares not at all to hiding scared under a desk. They haven’t made the adjustment to the clock given today’s headline but if they do I picture a clock with the second hand twitching at a second ‘til like one of those modern wall clocks that needs a new battery. Twitch, twitch, twitch. 

So what happened to get us to this MAD place? If you’re young enough or just not hip with history you perhaps can be excused for not understanding the premise of Mutually Assured Destruction - that if both sides can destroy the other then neither side would dare use nuclear weapons. It assumes of course that both sides will act rationally realizing that nothing can be gained by unleashing their nuclear arsenals. That little black briefcase that is never more than a few feet away from a U.S. President has for all these years been an afterthought like a wallflower at the prom, always there but fading into the background. 

The conundrum occurs when one side no longer acts rationally. I saw a brief clip of Condoleezza Rice acknowledging that Vladimir Putin’s behavior is increasingly erratic and delusional which in my book qualifies as definitely NOT rational. The WHY of Mr. Putin’s irrational behavior will be left to historians to figure out. It could be anything from a tyrannical megalomaniac reaching the point of being convinced of his own omnipotence to something far simpler, but equally dire, in the form of a malady associated with  advancing age.

In our own country we have had Presidents struck with medical issues that were largely kept from the public - Woodrow Wilson is suspected of having a minor stroke that ultimately left him partially paralyzed and Ronald Reagan was dogged by rumors of dementia as early as his campaign and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s after leaving office. In our democracy we have safeguards to protect us should the malady become debilitating - there’s a reason we have Vice Presidents and rules of succession should a Chief Executive and Commander In Chief become too erratic and delusional. The Russian people (I wonder if Russian kids in the 60’s spent much time underneath their desks admiring bubblegum?) should feel much safer because of this. The converse does not seem to be true - who is there (anybody? ANYBODY?) to rein in a Russian leader run amok? 

What will tomorrow’s headline be? Hopefully it will signal a step back from the abyss of nuclear armageddon. In the meantime this dinosaur is going to check on the internet to find a great old movie to take my mind off the madness that surrounds us all. Perhaps I’ll watch the old classic comedy from 1963 “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” where at least I can laugh at a world that no longer exists. Tomorrow I might not have the chance. 

Out of the frying pan...

Out of the frying pan,,, and into the fire. COVID is finally on the wane, at least regarding the Omicron variant and it feels like we are literally starting to breathe freely again sans masks, at least in my neck of the woods. But now we have moved from Pandemic to War. The World just can't seem to catch a break. 

What is it about the early part of the century that seems to sow the seeds for conflict? Only a hundred years ago one World War had just come to a close and another "War to end all Wars" would soon be on the horizon. We haven't even made it out of the 2020's and we're already repeating ourselves. 

What is it about us as a species that seems to cultivate and then tolerate thugs, despots, and tyrants? And what of Russia - no slouch on the tyrant front - Germany certainly had Hitler, but Russia seems to churn out tyrants in a staggeringly rapid succession. Lenin, Stalin, and now Putin stand front and center when it comes to defining tyranny. The Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle defined a Tyrant as a person who rules without, and unrestrained by, law. The fact that they needed to define the word at all tells us that even in their day humanity was already sadly struggling with leaders gone wild. 

There must be something innate in us as Humans that tends toward tyrannical behavior such as a thirst for power and control, indifference to conventional laws or morality, a penchant for lying and deceit, and an almost total lack of empathy for our fellow man. Perhaps it hearkens back to our early evolution, to our earliest fight for survival. Dr. Jean Kim, a psychiatrist writing in Pysychology Today ("Why do People Follow Tyrants? History repeats itself because of human nature") , points out that tyrants are not created in a vacuum, they come to power on the backs of the masses they ultimately disdain. She goes on to argue that its not so much the Tyrant we need to examine - their foibles are on full display for the World to see - as it is the people who ultimately follow and prop up these aberrant individuals and allow them to reach a critical point where they truly can exist outside the mores that govern, and define, civilized people. Its a fascinating read that ends up pointing the finger not only at the tyrant but at all of us for allowing such monsters to exist. 

Most of us have experienced tyrants from childhood on. From the schoolyard bully to abusive relationships in our personal and professional lives who among us hasn't been on the receiving end of some of this type of behavior? I spent much of my career working in Human Resources and in hindsight much of the work done by some of my peers revolved around reconciling such behavior within the needs of the organization. I'm not just mincing words here - Human Resources exists to protect the organization and sadly less enlightened H.R. shops often tolerate absolutely abysmal behavior by those in power under the guise of furthering the perceived interests of the company. I was often reminded that businesses are not democracies which is why long, long ago I concluded that business leadership was but a poor training ground for those aspiring to high government office and public service. Too many executives reach a point, sometimes abetted by their H.R. departments, of believing that they are indeed outside the laws, norms, and mores that govern the behavior of the rest of us.

Not all leaders are tyrants. I have worked for a handful who were the complete opposite of the word. However, Dr. Kim argues that a certain personality type - charismatic and charming but also calculating and cruel - often crops up in positions of power and I'd have to agree in so far as my observations over a 40+ year career saw far more of this type of leadership than the opposite. Extrapolate that to the global scale and I'd argue that there are far more nations leaning towards autocracy than those demonstrating true democratic traits. Folks far, far smarter than I actually study these things: one Washington Post article points out that "...only 15% of the world's population lives in countries where everyone, regardless of gender or socioeconomic status, has roughly equal access to political power." Another article published earlier this year in The Economist breaks the world's governments down this way:

• 23 countries have full democracies
• 52 have flawed democracies
• 35 are hybrid regimes
• 57 have authoritarian regimes

None of this answers the question of what to do about the Tyrant Du Jour: Vladimir Putin. His biography certainly gives strong hints at his ever-increasing belief that he is beyond the laws of men be they those of his own countrymen or those of other nations. We may not like what Mr. Putin is doing today, but none of it should come as a surprise. Still, the work of folks like Dr. Kim does give some insight into why he was allowed to get to this point both by his fellow Russians as well as the rest of the world. And in understanding Mr. Putin and his countrymen we may come away looking to our own shores with increased worry for our own future. And this is truly a deadly serious business.

Deaths attributed to:

COVID (worldwide) 5-6 million

Vladimir Lenin    3-4 million

Joseph Stalin       10-20 million (note that an additional 3-4 million Ukrainians were killed in the

                             Holodomor, a man-made famine engineered by the Soviet government of Joseph 

                             Stalin

Adolph Hitler       15-31 million

Mao Zedong         40-45 million

Vladimir Putin      To be determined

Of Slings and Arrows...

I saw Cupid flying around the other day and he didn't look too happy.

I was out shoveling snow yet again when I saw him and he was kinda cold and kinda shivering. You'd think by now he'd know better than to fly around in February in his skivvies. I mean, look at Santa - there's a dude that knows how to dress for winter. Of course his girth requires a sleigh and eight reindeer just to get him off the ground while ole' Cupid just has to flap his wings and hang onto his bow and arrow.

So tomorrow is the day for romance and roses. Apparently roses became a thing in the 1600's as people tried to emulate Venus - the Goddess of Love - who had a thing for flowers and roses in particular. She thought they stood for strong feelings and so people began to start giving roses to

show their love. From there its morphed into what it is today where Americans spend about $2 billion on valentines day flowers with 250 million roses produced just for this special day. 

Of course chocolate and candy are also important on this special day adding an additional $1.8 billion in the U.S. That's a whole lot of sweetie sweetness getting doled out. Interestingly, Americans also spend almost $900 million on Valentines gifts just for their pets. Anyway, you get the idea that this day of love translates to big business - in total, we'll rack up more than $20 billion in Cupid-related spending. I wonder if Mister Cupid is getting a cut of the action. I hope so - given his advanced age I hope he has a robust 401(K).

And what of the little guy himself? Cupido in Latin means passionate desire and mythology suggests

that Cupid is the offspring of our aforementioned love Goddess Venus and Mars, the God of war. Well, they do say opposites attract. Love and War, the proverbial Yin and Yang of human civilization. One of my dear friends perhaps puts it more succinctly - "happy wife, happy life" or perhaps to be more politically correct - "happy spouse, happy house". 

Here's a Cupid quiz - what kinds of arrows does Cupid carry? It is said that he carries two types of arrows - one with a sharp golden point and one with a tip made of lead. When struck by the golden arrow one is filled with 

uncontrollable desire whereas a strike with the leaden tip fills  one with aversion and a desire to flee. Way (way, way) back in the day Apollo, among other things the god of archery, taunted Cupid on his bow and arrow skills to which Cupid replied by promptly shooting Apollo with the golden arrow but then strikes the object of Apollo's newfound desire - Daphne - with the lead one leading Daphne to want to have nothing to do with the very handsome, but now rather bothersome Apollo. Unwilling to put up with Apollo's unwanted advances Daphne prays for relief from her father - the river god Peneus - who turns her into - what else (this is after all Greek mythology) - a tree. And from there it was all downhill for poor Apollo, at least as far as love is concerned. 

Here's hoping YOUR valentines holiday goes much smoother than poor Apollo's. Flowers and candy -

there are worse ways to enjoy a holiday. And hey, where would we all be save for romance? There are not a lot of flowers blooming in my neck of the woods this time of year but still, I do appreciate a beautiful blossom. Here's a special Valentine's Day wish from our garden to yours. May your days be merry and bright... oops, wrong holiday. Lets try that again with something I'll be sharing with my wife:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

The best day of my life

was when I met you

Ho Hum

Are you watching the Olympics? Yeah, me neither.

Well, that’s not quite correct. I have tuned in occasionally. Like last night I caught Mikaela skiing for five seconds and then sitting inconsolably on the side of the course for twenty five minutes after not finishing her slalom run on a slope made almost entirely of fake snow in a country intent on not allowing us to see anything other than what they want us to see. As sad as I feel for Mikaela’s heartache, that view of her sitting disconsolately head on knees must be sending the folks in the Chinese propaganda machine into spasms of glee. Contrast that image with the American-born Big Air skier Eileen Gu winning the Gold not for Team USA but for the People’s Republic of China. A study in contrasts and not to America’s benefit by any stretch. 

To be fair, Eileen’s motivations for representing the nation of her birth mother seem sincere and well-intentioned but still it was a tad jarring to see an American (she was born in San Francisco) lofting the Gold Medal wearing the uniform of Team China. She is still naive enough to believe that international sport can be divorced from politics but her situation drives home the opposite conclusion which is that sport at this level and in this venue is politics, at least in her circumstance. The reality is that the same Chinese propaganda machine which is tickled pink at Mikaela’s  stumbles on the snow will try to use Eileen’s triumph to their every advantage. I hazard a guess that the American part of Eileen’s persona will balk at that attempted control and I fear that her momentary glory (“they’re never going to know what it feels like to win an Olympic medal”) may be short lived as she tries to walk the tightrope of her dual allegiances.

So, did you wonder where the Sports Psychologist for the U.S. Ski team was as Mikaela spoke to the NBC commentator at the bottom of the course and questioned the last 15 years of her skiing career? Athletes egos are fragile things and when confidence is shaken its tough to get it back especially given the enormous pressure these world-class competitors are under. Mikaela doesn’t often fail which may make it more difficult for her to bounce back. Perhaps the ski racing world needs to take a lesson from the Big Air skiers. Spectacular falls are not uncommon in Big Air and the skiers are used to dusting themselves off, picking up their skis and heading back up the hill to do it all again. I know- its just that easy… and just that hard. Mikaela will rebound which is why we love her… not for never failing, nor just for winning, but for getting back into the starting gate and being brave enough to throw herself back down the hill. She may not win Gold at these Olympics, though she still has several more opportunities to do so, but that does not diminish the winner she has already proven herself to be. Eileen’s Olympic glory may be short lived but Mikaela’s time spent sitting and contemplating on the snow may ultimately reap benefits for her that will last for the next 15 years of her career. And that may be something worth watching.

February's chilly reception: Cupid needs a parka and mittens

For those not in the know,
Leadville is one of THE
places to watch Burro
racing in the summer

There's a chill in the air and its name is February. I firmly believe Denver gets its coldest temps in the second month of the year. I remember as a kid watching my dad repair frozen water pipes when the mercury hit 14 below in the month more typically celebrated for romance and love. This year again Cupid needs some mittens and a parka if he's coming to town. Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow when they dragged the little fella out of his cozy warm burrow which apparently means six more weeks of winter so if I was a chubby cherub I wouldn't be scampering around in my undies that's for sure. 

February derives its name from the Roman festival of Februa during which people were ritually washed. My Polar Bear plunges into icy cold water are a long, long way behind me so I'll take a pass on any recreation of this month's namesake. Still, February is a busy month. Apart from Valentines there is also Presidents' Day and its also Black History month which this year got off to a less than auspicious start when apparently six juveniles (delinquents? domestic terrorists? what best fits nowadays?) made multiple bomb threats to several HBCU's (historically Black colleges and universities). Not exactly any way to show love to your fellow man. I like the way Karyn Parsons (writer, actor, and lead in The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air) phrased it back in 2014: "Black history isn't a separate history. This is all of our history, this is American history, and we need to understand that." Clearly we still have much to learn and as I get older I'm more and more convinced that the definition of wisdom is the appreciation of just how little we really know.

I like to learn new things. There's not much in this old world that doesn't pique my curiosity. Recently I was way, way out of my element as I took a tour of a doll house. Yup, a doll house. Not just any doll house mind you, but an effort (fittingly) of love and passion by a master craftswoman (there's a word you don't hear nearly enough) that was years in the making. Madeleine is this craftswoman's name and you can watch a video tour of her creation below. She's also an accomplished artist and I wish I had a small iota of the talent that she has. 

Speaking of learning, I'm also taking a pottery class (boy, if saying that doesn't make me feel my age I don't know what does) as well as learning to make stained glass. I mean, what else are you supposed to do when its 15-20 below? The great thing is I find myself around folks far more talented than I and I'm hoping some of that talent might rub off on me. I know, I know, wishful thinking... Still, it gets the creative juices flowing which is never a bad thing and its just plain fun to spend time with a bunch of people doing something they, yes - love. And just to stay current and hip with what's going on in the real world Adele's Vegas Show cancellation fiasco has motivated me to learn one of her songs on the guitar so when the snow is falling you'll find me Rolling in the Deep.

Like I said, February is a busy month. I'll let Punxsutawney Phil get back to his hibernation but I'm going to put those next six weeks of winter to good use. I mean, how else am I supposed to stay warm?

I was out in the frigid cold changing
the batteries on my weather station
and captured this pic of the
frost on the window of our
garden shed... BRRRRRRR....

This n That

How's your January going? 

I was booting up my laptop to write this blog and up came the image selected by Microsoft that changes periodically showing me all the beautiful and spectacular landscapes from around the world that I'd like to visit. Today's photo featured a scene from Patagonia highlighting mountains and glaciers. Here in Colorado we have both of those things (though sadly fewer and fewer of the latter) but still the scene reminded me that I and my better half were supposed to be journeying far, far to the south at about this time to another land of ice and snow, mountains and glaciers, and even the occasional penguin thrown in for good measure. Yup, we were supposed to be freezing our tuckuses off in the far off continent of Antarctica. Passage had been booked with the good folks at Norwegian Cruise Lines (they really are very nice people - lord knows we've had enough conversations booking, rescheduling, and sadly, cancelling several cruises to know what wonderful people they are). Back in October (2021) we had cancelled our trip of a lifetime to that frozen clime due to concerns around COVID. More specifically our Port of Embarkation, Buenos Aires, Argentina, was being persnickety about not letting foreigners into their beautiful country out of an abundance of caution regarding that virus we've all come to know and love.

Unable to head south to practice our Spanish and Penguinese we opted to book a bicycle trip to Florida where we would tour the Florida Keys from Key Largo to Key West. I know, I know - Florida the sometime viral Capital of the U.S., really? What were we thinking? Well, when we booked the trip Omicron was still just the obscure 15th letter of the Greek alphabet and NOT the viral gangbuster it has since turned out to be. Things had appeared to be returning to whatever the new normal is (if you've figured THAT out let me know) and we felt what safer place could there be than on a bicycle pedaling through the fresh, and hopefully warm, January sea air along the southernmost leg of U.S. Highway 1, also known as the "Overseas Highway". 

And then, OMG, Omicron entered our vocabulary and yes, the east coast and Florida specifically regained their claim to fame as THE place to go if you wanted to experience this especially virulent, but thankfully less severe strain of good ole' C-19. The tour director reached out to let us know they were still planning on running the tour but with some new conditions: COVID tests when we checked in, daily temperature checks, no group meals or get-togethers, none of the planned excursions (visiting turtles, saying "Hi" to Flipper, glassbottom boats, etc.) and oh, by the way, if you came down with COVID you'd not only be asked to immediately leave the tour (as Shakespeare would say - "Post Haste") but be on your own to figure out how to get yourself back home. Visions of me and my sweetie (yes, Valentines is only days away!) standing on the side of the "Overseas Highway" suitcases in hand and thumbs extended came merrily to mind. Now if this doesn't sound like a great trip I don't know my Omicron from my Epsilon (the fifth letter.... well, you get the idea).

So we reached out and told the tour director, who was very nice (we're having so many nice conversations with so many nice people!) and said, unless we were mistaken, this didn't sound like the definition of FUN we had envisioned and that given all the new caveats and conditions we'd take a pass.  Which is why I'm sitting in Denver (Littleton actually) looking out at the snow that fell a day ago. Granted the sun is shining and the temps are climbing but palm trees and daiquiris on the beach it is not. I'd much prefer to be writing this from the comfort of a poolside lounge chair as the wind rustles through the hair I still have left, but hey, we play the cards we're dealt. 

To kind of bring this full circle, I just read this morning that the cruise ship we were on (the Norwegian GEM) when we Bon Voyaged from New York to San Francisco via the Panama Canal in 2020 just had to cancel a cruise mid-passage and was returning with several thousand disappointed travelers to whence they had set out (New York) due to an outbreak of sickness onboard that prevented them from docking at several Caribbean countries they had planned on visiting. Sounds dishearteningly familiar yet sadly unsurprising. At least they'll have the opportunity to speak with some of the very, very nice people at NCL that I spoke of earlier. As for me, the mention of the Norwegian GEM still brings back wonderful and unforgettable memories from a pre-COVID world so perhaps I'll take some time to revisit some of the videos we took during that glorious trip where mention of mask mandates, social distancing, and vaccinations were still the stuff of science fiction. Except for hand washing, or as they say in the cruise ship biz "Washy, Washy!"

I'll repost the first video from that trip below in case you're looking for a dose of shipboard fun in the sun. Just mix up your favorite umbrella drink, sit back and enjoy! And no, not a single Penguin to be found...

And if you're more the reading type just click here to see some of the accompanying blogs from that trip. Aaah, those were the days...

Welcome to 2022!

Probably not a lot of folks sad to see 2021 fade into the history books. 2022, as does every New Year, offers a chance at new beginnings, a proverbial blank slate on which to etch the moments of life.

Along the Front Range of Colorado 2021 certainly left its mark on its way out the door. As the Denver Post today proclaimed in one of their stories, climate change met population boom with disastrous results.

The weather forecasts on the night of December 29th had warned of high winds along the Eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains but that in and of itself was not unusual. High winds here are not an unusual occurrence - they even have a name: Chinook winds. Generally they bring warmer temperatures to lower elevations and such was the case as Wednesday would see temps climbing into the 50's in Denver despite the calendar saying it was December and Christmas only five days removed. 

Thursday dawned clear and sunny and yes, breezy. The Denver area had not seen a white Christmas and the period from July through December had proven to be one of the driest on record with the metro area having received only an inch or so of precipitation for all those months. During breakfast my weather station was indicating barometric pressure of 29.44 which is relatively low and was supportive of the previous night's forecasts of strong winds. My wife and I discussed what we wanted to do for the day and since the temp's were relatively mild decided to take our two pups out for a walk. Given the wind forecast we decided to head to Bear Creek Lake Park a couple of miles away as it offers fairly sheltered walking through the trees. Unbeknownst to us, the combination of record dry conditions and exceptionally strong winds would result in the most destructive wildfires in Colorado history.

Driving north along C-470, the western part of Denver's circumferential highway, the winds were starting to howl and the minivan was being pushed all over the road. Big rigs and semitrucks were already slowing to a crawl and it wasn't more than a couple of minutes after we took the Morrison exit that the first truck was being blown onto its side bringing the highway to a standstill. 

Normally we start at the Skunk Hollow parking lot but I had a sense that given the winds the upper Big Soda lake might be something to see so we kept on going to the swim beach parking lot. The car was swaying from side to side in the wind as I parked and out on the lake the conditions took my breath away. Literally. Walking (more like staggering) to the concrete retaining walls around the beach the surface of the lake looked like it was boiling and it was indeed hard to breathe as the wind seemed to suck the air right out of your lungs. You could only face downwind as to look the other way was to get sandblasted. What seemed to be smoke turned out to be the surface of the lake vaporizing and carried high into the sky. Trees were swaying erratically in the strong winds and I thought to myself how fortunate it was that there were no leaves at this time of year or few limbs would be left. 

I hadn't set out to take pictures or make a video on this day but conditions were so extraordinary it wasn't long before I had my camera out trying to take as steady a shot as possible while leaning backward into the gale force winds and trying to catch my breath (Gale force winds are defined as between 32 and 63mph - a little further up the road north of Golden wind gusts of 115mph were being recorded). 

We quickly retreated to the relative shelter of the Cottonwood Trail. Even here it was eerie to hear the roar of the wind through the treetops. The dry prairie grasses were lying almost flat and as we walked occasional limbs, branches and other debris would tumble down from above. Clouds of flying dust flew overhead and to the north over Green Mountain we noticed a single solitary white cloud stationary against the azure blue of the Colorado winter sky. I remember wondering how any cloud could survive being shredded to bits in such horrendous wind conditions but it did, barely moving or changing shape through much of our early walk. 

As we followed the trail from Skunk Hollow several miles to Bear Creek Reservoir we alternated from the comparative safety of the trees to scrambling up and over small hillocks where we were quickly reminded and awed by how strong the wind was blowing. The waters of the reservoir, which sits in a normally sheltered depression, were in turmoil. Sections of the western shore were still frozen and in places geese were seeking shelter on the ice wherever they could find it. They were all pressed as flat as they could facing the same direction into the wind and you could see their flight feathers ruffling with every gust. It was amazing that they were not being blown backward off the ice into the lake but they remained in place. Farther out on the lake you could see random areas of calm which upon closer attention turned out to be sheets of ice that had separated from the shore and were on a perilous journey eventually to crash into the wave-tossed shoreline on the other side of the reservoir.

Making our way back the way we had come that same fluffy white cloud still hovered over Green Mountain. Only now there was an ominous dark billow beneath it streaming off to the east. It was at that point we began to realize that something was amiss. As we continued our walk it became evident that the dark billow was smoke and soon it stretched along much of the eastern horizon. Driving home the winds continued unabated and we passed several overblown trucks. One car had their Yakima roof container blown apart and the poor driver was desperately trying to collect his skis and other belongings from the windswept highway. From a neighborhood park we got a clearer view of the smoke plume streaming from the Boulder area and hurried home to turn on the local news only to find out conditions on the ground were far, far worse than the distant smoke plume would have suggested. 

As I write this I can only shake my head at the capriciousness of Mother Nature. This morning we woke to a mantle of white that was two days too late. While I shoveled snow this morning hundreds, if not thousands of my fellow Coloradans were wondering if they still had a home to return to. 

The following video is a snapshot of the wind event that would end up causing such extreme fire damage just 30 miles to the north. It will be a long, long time before I can hear the roar of the wind and not think back to this day.