On Sunday we went up to the park. (Rocky Mountain National Park). I haven’t been there for a year, even though we live only about 40 miles away. Sunday it seemed like some of us were grumpy — I know I was. So we got in the car all grumpy because I said we had to get out of the house and do something.
We drove up 36 past the plumes of smoke from the Cow Creek Fire. It’s contained, but has been burning since June, and recently was kicked up again. We got to the entrance station and learned that Trail Ridge Road was closed due to a fire that started the day before.
That was okay because what I really wanted to do was go to Moraine Park and see if there were any Elk — and there were . . .
That was the boss, and here’s his ladies . . .
This is as close as I can get without getting charged . . .
It’s dry up in Rocky, so the colors were a bit muted . . .
I felt my spirits lift when I took this photo . . .
I know I saw the faintest glimmer of a smile among the three of us — how can you help it when you’re looking at this . . .
So at the end we stopped a this little family fun center that we’re always too tired to go to . . . and my kiddos slid down the big slide and took a turn on the gocarts. More smiles.
Then as we were driving home, I turned on a music mix that we’d listened to on a trip a few years ago. One of them started to sing along and pretty soon we were all singing and no one was complaining that the rest of us couldn’t sing or feeling grumpy anymore. Rocky Mountain High.