after the gold rush

I'm in Denver for the longweekend. Dad moved here bout month&aHalfago, and Mom flew in last night too, so we're three together for the first since Boston last month.

This morning I woke and ran up into the nearby bluffs.

Bluffs. When this land initially began launching up towards the heavens, the Native People said, "look, more mountains!" The Great Rockies barely turned their heads to laugh, for they knew the little'uns were just --. Well, the hills stopped rising quite so fast, and the Rockies "toldyaso," and the Natives saw and called their bluff. And that's how.

Well, the grizzled Wisconsin man next to me on flight out here said "They tell me that in Denver one beer is like four, on account of the altitude." What they didn't tell him (or he didn't tell me) was that one mile is like four -- if your intoxicant of choice is running -- and that those bluffs are still pretty damn tough to get up.

I was told to keep an eye for pronghorns, and a sign said, "no -- now here, look out for rattlesnakes, man," but all I saw were two pterodactyls while I was out running around, and after first glance one turned into a giant falcon and the other a small airplane, so it wasn't really too animated after all.

At the top, in the distance, Denver -- jagged bell curve of buildings poking up -- and miles of massive suburban sprawl growing, consuming (dig the time-lapse flowers!). And coyotes cried and no place to hide.

My god but that was beautiful writing. I'm sorry I haven't been around lately... It's so difficult to get through the whole blogroll most days. I see you have become part of the machine. I'm feeling a little angst. I hope becoming a cog goes smoothly and the drudge doesn't wear down your fine jagged peaks into a smooth pebble. Please don't let the grind wear you down!

-- Kate S. (June 21, 2004 11:33 AM)