Until the first burst of color...Indian paintbrush more ocherous than red it lights up the meadow like its name "prairie fire."
And then there is yellow. Goldenrod, sunshine, primrose and saffron-colors shade the meadow a lustrous kaleidoscopic view of a rain-drenched spring in Colorado.
This June, the yucca blooms even more brilliantly than in years past. Its roots saturated with water it reaches for the peak breaking out of its hard pods--alabaster petals.
The palest pink bud bursts into a pearly ephemeral flower that looks like a woman's handkerchief tossed into the wind.
Walk with me. Exploring this trail you can almost forget that you are in the middle of a city. City noises are silenced as the birds, breath and steps are the only constant on the gravely sand that ranges in color from gray to sienna to rust in a matter of minutes. Most days you will not encounter another hiker. Today there is one lone mountain biker with two black labs who we let pass as we continue our walk.There are purples and blues too. Tiny bells that are hard to photograph because any slight breeze starts them trembling and wild Alpine sweet peas, rich dark purple like amethysts in the grassland.
In the middle of emptiness flowers embellish the landscape.
Blood red and magenta flourishes from prickly succulents against the variegated stone.
Bristlecone bouquets suspend over craggy cliffs vibrating with black ants.
An hour later as we leave the skies have cleared, the thunderhead has moved on and the peak is clearer. I used to think the mountains never change.
