I woke up this morning with no mood to do anything, from hiking to gardening to going anywhere. It felt good to do nothing for a change, without the guilt of not helping out the oil companies and their quarterly profits. I am one ofmany Americans this Memorial Dayweekend who is staying close to home; this has been the slowest Memorial Weekend since 9/11, say all the news.
I did check on the garden, walking on the still-soft soil in the back yard this morning. The softness felt surreal here in the desert. The light pack of snow on the peaks is still there, glistening in the eastern sun. That snow will melt this coming week when it hits the 90s again, and water will once again flow down the intermittent streams into the San Pedro River.
Two years ago this weekend we traveled to southwestern Colorado and hiked the high mountains near Durango, Gunnison and Crested Butte. The dogs loved the cool air and the lush green grass. I enjoyed all that as well, but also reveled in the isolated mountain pass towns along the way; defunct mining towns that slowly converted to small tourist traps for the passer-by. We both agreed we will be back someday.
But this weekend, with the high gasoline prices and the need to get a few more chores around here done, there is no guilt in staying home. We live in Paradise, so where else can we go?
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