The Quiet Place, 9″x6″ watercolor, By Donna Lyons © 2015

“This barn is almost isolated in winter, when the wind howling down Bowen Gulch brings Kawuneeche snowstorms that sprawl out along the creek, building rifts here and there along its banks and in and out of forest curtains. A good work-out on snowshoes takes me to see how it looks in winter and deeply rewards my curiosity. Most folks see this charming place when the world is green and gold, when echoes of elk voices bounce back and forth across the steep gulch to the west. Yes, or course! This is another favorite place of mine that also feels like home, even though my real home lies just a few short miles to the south in the valley. Favorite landscapes can evoke a sense of belonging, as their reassuring presence after a long absence reminds us: here is something previous, warm and most familiar. In spite of our away-from-home wonderings, it’s always comforting to find a memory of our past that hasn’t changed, hasn’t disappeared and is still welcoming.”  -DL 

Welcome to your second home

By Marty Coffin Evans © 2017

Years ago, when I first moved to California for my teaching job, I knew one couple friend of my parents. They lived in Riverside, about an hour or so away from me.

They were kind enough to give me a second home during those early years. I’d call the Sayers and go for a visit along with a meal with them. How special that became for me and my parents too.

Soon teacher friends would invite me to join them at their family’s homes in Northern California for Thanksgiving.  I came home to Boulder for Christmas but, sharing that second home with them during that holiday helped close the distance.

In the recent weeks, I’ve learned how much our home has meant to others who moved here. “I can’t imagine how different my life would be had I not known you and become part of your family,” commented Emily.

Coming here from Illinois for college, she knew no one except us from my cousin’s family friend. She noted recently how important the years have been from her collegiate times, to when Emily lived with us for a few months and since her return to Boulder for a job. She recalls special Sunday evening dinners with “60 Minutes.”

“My mom always asks about you,” Emily continued.  “She’s so grateful you gave me a second home.” Our second home meals have continued as she’s part of our family members planning the holiday ones starting with Thanksgiving through Easter and beyond.

I realized that second home concept when attending the memorial service for our high school friend Barbara’s father. That family had moved next door to us from Champagne-Urbana, Illinois.

Our friend Sharon remembered meeting me at Baseline Junior High School shortly after she and her widowed mother had moved here from Kansas. Most likely that meeting occurred in choir as we sang together for years in school. “You saved me,” she reflected.  I’d forgotten some of that and realized how hard that must have been for that young teen.

Another in our small group had moved here from Illinois by way of their Cliffside Cottages in Estes Park. Donna was the one the Dean of Girls at Boulder High called me in to meet and show around.  I later learned her mother shed joyful tears about her daughter meeting a new friend.

Sometimes, we don’t realize how we’ve helped others when they’ve moved into our schools or communities. Hearing that importance is most gratifying.

I remain grateful for the gift of that second home years ago.  I still cook Alice Sayre’s Tamale Pie recipe and remember their kindness to this family friend from Colorado.

November 2025

Abundance and Scarcity, 10″ x 7″ Watercolor and Gouache, By Donna Lyons © 2018

“There’s a bit of nostalgia, or is it an ache someplace deep down inside me, that causes a twinge in my heart when the autumn breezes set the golden ‘quakies’ in motion. I love looking upwards to see the chromatic canopy moving against a turquoise sky. The shimmer of brilliance and motion that move across the mountainside excites me, tantalizing my imagination with the music and clatter of leaves only aspen know how to make.

“Or, is it a vague sadness. A mourning for golden high-country days long passed that still shimmer for me: Memories of a crisp morning on horseback, riding through tall, jeweled stands of slender trunks and gracefully gilded branches, listening for Nature’s wisdom on the breeze and finding it with a trusted companion, warm sunshine on corduroy shoulders beneath a broad-brimmed hat, and those golden ‘coins’ that lie scattered so perfectly on the trail under my pony’s feet.” – D.L.

Finding a Favorite

By Marty Coffin Evans © 2024

How fortunate we are to live in an area with seasons! We may ask or comment about a favorite. I’m not sure if I can find just one season I like more than another. They’re different.

Seeing the beautiful turn of aspen leaves may move fall to the top of many Coloradans’ favorite season list. We read about special area drives to see the best splay of autumn colors. Or we may hear about these locations during our news programs.

Those from the East Coast or Midwest may comment that Colorado’s colors pale in comparison to those in their locales. Our trees give us golds but not the deep reds found elsewhere.

Not long from now, local newspapers will hold contests for those interested in guessing the date of the first snowfall. Enter winter at some point, perhaps a favorite season for some. The beauty of our blue skies against the white backdrop of our mountains elicits a sense of gratification for this time. For those for whom winter lands at the bottom of the seasonal list, waiting through the cold, snowy times may seem to take forever.

In Colorado, we don’t have to look at our calendars to know when spring arrives.  Making it through the sometime muddy days getting there, soon flowers begin to bloom. Springtime in the Rockies for me conjures up images of lilacs complete with their wonderful fragrance.

During some years with cool, wet spring, it may seem summer will never arrive. When it does, often the temperatures shoot up leaving us wishing for cooler days.  We know Colorado gives us cool evenings and, if history holds, gentle rainstorms mid-afternoon. “Gentle” here might include hail, much to our distress and that of our flowers and vegetable plants.

If someone asked me my favorite season, I’m not sure if I could answer the question. The splashes of Aspen on hillsides take my breath away. The beauty of snow-covered hillsides beneath a full moon, captures my heart and remains vivid in my mind’s eye from year’s past. Layer in the fragrance of lilacs and I’m transported to my childhood days growing up in Colorado.

I give up! I have to admit; I’m lost in finding that favorite. Maybe you’ll have better luck!’

October 2025

“Just Ducky,” 8″x10″ Gouache, By Donna Lyons © 2024

“Rollin’ along”

By Marty Coffin Evans © 2023

I’ve been around for millions of years just rolling along, from Lake Itasca, Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico. I’ve been part of settling this country and its western expansion. I’m a special place full of stories that excite the imagination.

Even from earlier territorial wars, treaties, fur trading, forts, and commerce, I’ve not seen it all. I know there’s more to come.

In my upper part, they’ve built locks and dams to control my water’s flow up and down the river. I used to change my course, just a little bit. That didn’t last too long!

Of course, periodically I change my depth enough to make navigating sandbars a challenge. I know, it’s not good to get stuck on them, but I can’t help how much sediment builds up or water comes each year. I can’t really apologize for my waters’ natural force.

Sometimes, I flow very fast and high and even cause flooding. Other times, I run slow and a little shallow. That makes navigating my waters “interesting” for all those different boat captains.

If I weren’t already big enough as the ole Mississippi River, others have joined my upper, middle and lower parts. There are so many names I can’t remember all of them. I do know the Ohio, Arkansas, and Missouri Rivers have joined along in making me so special. There are more complicated stories about the Red and Atachafala Rivers leaving me behind.  I’m trying not to take that personally.

Towns have grown beside my banks. Years ago, steamboats were the big attraction as they floated town to town using my water to move them along. What a beautiful sight it was in those days. “Steamboats a comin’!” I remember hearing. Villagers would come running to see those beautiful paddlewheel boats and passengers.

Even today when these river boats dock, villagers come to meet the passengers. Locals guide visitors around their towns sharing stories about their unique place in history

Huge barges have continued to make their way up and down my waters. They’re not nearly as beautiful as those steamboats or other river vessels. Some of those barges are so big, they have to kinda split themselves to get through some of my locks. That feels weird having part of the barge in the lock before it’s moved on out and then joined by the rest.

I like how travelers enjoy all the recreation my water can provide. I’ve watched those small boats out early in the morning with fishermen hoping to lure something for a meal. Fish and waterfowl are plentiful in and around me. So too are wild game in some areas.  You can see how I became popular for settlements with the surrounding abundance. Like all good things, that changes too.

I’ve made history as different industries formed near my banks. From lumber to buttons, flour mills and more, my place in commerce is well established. Some industries spoiled me decades ago with refuse from their plants. Many are now trying to clean me up a bit. I know I’ve been part of a few political battles during my lifetime. Maybe I still am.

Of course, I’ve had my share of fame, by being immortalized in scholarly works, novels, movies, songs, and musicals. I bet some can’t think of me without a song popping into their minds or remembering Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer stories.

Regardless of what they think, or even call me, I’m Mighty, Muddy, Majestic, the Great River. I’d say Beautiful too, and, as the song goes, “I just keeps rollin’ along!”

September 2025

“Capitol Reef Arroyo, ” 4″ x 7,”. Watercolor, By Donna Lyons © 2013

The roads mistakenly traveled

By Marty Coffin Evans © 2023

My husband and I have apparently begun the habit of traveling on roads which, in hindsight, we should have missed. These shouldn’t-have-taken roads, have provided the fodder for funny stories and lots of laughter…later.

Our first mistakenly traveled road, occurred in Georgia when we left the Whistle Stop Café (think “Fried Green Tomatoes”).  I thought I could find my way out of the various roads in search of I-85. Turning left, those trees didn’t look right. I made a U Turn, headed the opposite direction where, once again, those trees didn’t look right nor had we planned on visiting an area plantation.

Eventually, I wound my way back and stopped in front of the Whistle Stop Café. My snoozing husband, woke up, asked if I needed the restroom. No, I’m trying to find my way out of this friggin’ area. Following the provided directions, we found I-85! We received a Garmin that Christmas.

Our next “mistaken” road happened in California. With son Adam at the wheel, we headed over a crazy, curvy mountain pass in the wine country. Once safely on the other side, vineyard staff commented, “Even the locals don’t take that road!”

Not to be outdone by either of these states, we had our own Colorado adventure. With directions loaded into our Waze app, we headed west on I-70 for a 10^th Mountain Division Memorial Day Celebration in the High Country. We entered Tennessee Pass into Waze, were told to turn onto East Tennessee Pass Road, and, so we did. Bouncing over deep ruts, scraping shrub bushes on either side, periodic dips full of water on this rough road, Waze announced we’d reach our destination! Really?!

Recalculate! We made a U Turn, traveled 13 miles back to find the correct destination – Camp Hale, home of the 10^th Mountain Division.

Specifics can make a difference! What mistakenly traveled road is your favorite?

July 2025