| T Coe Dec 8 | There's a hill not far from my house that looks down on our little watershed—when I drive down this hill, I get a decent glimpse of Ralston Valley. Most of the time, it doesn't feel like a valley: it feels like just another tract of Front Range suburbs, the same low-density suburbia that rolls across much of the Denver metro. But when I come down that hill, I remember, if only for a moment, that our house and our neighborhood are truly in a gentle little valley, tucked up against the rise of the foothills, framed by the plateau mass of the Table Mountains to the south and the hilly flats to the north. There's something about the lights that makes all this much easier to see at night. With the detail washed out and only the lights left to draw the eye—and, at this time of year, all the Christmas lights, too!—there's something lovely and satisfying about this. | | | | You can also reply to this email to leave a comment. | | | | |
No comments:
Post a Comment