Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. Walking early with a friend, we inhaled Colorado’s beauty as the sun rose, glowed on western ridges, and illuminated Pikes Peak. Usually snow-capped in June, how bare it looked now due to winter’s snow drought. Another...
Arose she at magenta sunrise, just after twinkling bouquets faded. The summer damask rose shimmered in an old cut glass vase beside her bed. He always left one waiting there. She thought of that other day, fifty-two summers ago, when her now-snow-headed sweetheart...
