Now that the leaves have fallen from the cottonwoods and ash,
I can see clear down the face of the Front Range.
Sleeping Indian mountain with a mesa just beyond, the merest tip of Pike’s Peak,and long, wide stretches of prairie.
Those long wide stretches of prairie help me breathe… deep stretching breaths that reach into my fingers, my toes, my old, aching back.
Thank God for the prairie.