Author: Martian Joe

Awoke to a cold, dark cloud covered mountain top this morning. Humidity is steadily holding ninety nine percent since rising. In times of drought and uncertainty, we have seemingly had our share of moisture to fight back such. This place is fully alive, green, vibrant, and full of animal life.

Saturday night I again broke bread with a relatively new (to the park) couple, having been graciously invited into their home. A lovely evening it was, full of food, laughter and time spent getting to know each other. There are so many kind, open, and generous people in this ranch. It is a characteristic I’ve not found so widespread in any community before. It can draw one in.

My neighbor’s lot has been emptied of the wood reserves he created for me. A full third of my winter fuel now stacked and stored and drying for later consumption. This week it’s off on another new location to see another new neighbor’s property and to bring back another load of offered firewood. I’ll cut it up and load it, and then split and stack it as is routine. A quiet, thoughtful, unimpeded routine I am beginning to greater appreciate. Keeping my body fit, and making a winter’s worth of free heat.

It would seem that the ballots are being cast; next Saturday we shall have two board members elected for a four year term. One person is running for re-election, and two people are running for the first time. Three men vying for two jobs, so we shall see what the community has chosen to do quite soon. I am now officially part of the process, being a ballot counter, and let us hope we fair better than our own government did last Fall.

The ranch is alive in every way. A myriad of new summer mountain flowers are erupting everywhere. The fields in front of Grey Place are yellow, a patch near Ortega Pass is as white as if the snow were still there, and I am actually about to mow my lawn for the second time in ten days. Life is sprouting, bursting, and enjoying the warm weather.

Firewood is being gathered, nearly a third of my winter needs now on the lot, mostly cut, split and already stacked. Much is left to do, but the days are long, the sun is thorough, and life is good out on the ranch.

The park is abuzz with home owners now, a pause in the hunting season and summer time means this place is full (relatively speaking) of folks. Saturday night I visited with some friends, and another friend got a flat on the way home, so I took him back to his house, wanting to fix the tire in daylight, and sans whiskey.

Every house between his and mine was fully lit, fully occupied, and full of warm glowing sun produced light. It was an interesting sight to see, and my first of such since arriving, but the ranch is still quiet, mostly devoid of vehicles, unlike when hunting is in full swing.

The ranch is wet, green and dripping with new life.

A week of June is already gone, yet the plants finally went outside yesterday. It was cold last night – forty two for the low, so we shall see how they do out in the real world, but plants must adapt and the sooner I make them, the more likely they will succeed overall. Much rain late yesterday, so I’m sure they have a few days of root shock ahead of us. But, at 6.30 in the morning, they are basking in sunlight, versus waiting until late in the afternoon when stuck in the house.

Finding workers out here is difficult. If anyone knows of anyone wanting some work, to dig me a hole so I can install a green house, please do let me know. I contacted my guy in March, was promised a May work time frame, and cannot currently get the man to return a phone call. My neighbor Jack, with culverts laying in ditches of Schierl Road, was expecting him as well.

Tonight I begin the firewood collection cycle again. Neighbors are graciously offering me free wood, so step one is gathering the low hanging fruit, getting everything home, and building a larger stash than last year.

I have been reading that the weather is different state wide this year, the worst in many of many. It has still been a bit challenging here, five hours south of my former home. I arrived on the 26th of August last summer, and thus far, June 2021 included, last August is the only month I haven’t received snow. The only month that didn’t require lighting a fire or the wall heaters to keep the house warm. My body is yearning for Summer, for heat, for movement with the pounding sun, a time to leave windows open, put plants outside, walk barefoot.

It is lovely here, both the land and the community, and it is my home. It just weighs heavy on my heart, less than three weeks from the equinox, and I still wear a wool hat and wool jacket whilst walking the dog.

Better than a drought, yes.

Better than my former home, yes.

Idyllic southern Colorado weather, not yet.