Complete with a picture of my foreheadI received a lovely email from a very lovely girl, and decided to take her advice. I needed to get out of my house, so I went hiking.
Iím wallowing in self pity, and the longer I sit here the longer it will take me to get out of this rut.
It was a cloudy overcast day today, and it seemed like perfect weather to me. Iím not a huge fan of the heat, so a nice mild day was just what I needed.
Colorado literally means the color red. There is no question as to where that name came from. Iíve seen it all my life and sometimes I have a hard time remembering how beautiful the mountains are. Where I see bland and colorless, others see vibrant red.
I forget that most peopleís dirt is brown.
The clouds muted the color, but I loved this sign.
Thereís a notorious tunnel on the way to my hiking site, and Iíve been afraid of it since I first heard its urban legend when I was 15. Supposedly at night if you stop inside the tunnel and turn off your lights youíll see someone hanging from the top of the tunnel and when you leave youíll find handprints on your bumper. Iím pretty sure this is a standard urban legend for most tunnels. One night as a teenager, stoned off my ass, we were dared and couldnít refuse. Of course my imagination had run wild and I saw Ďsomeoneí hanging. There were handprints, which had obviously come from us closing the trunk prior to entering the tunnel. I was scared out of my mind and havenít been through the tunnel at night since. In fact, I still silently freak out in the daytime when I drive through it.
Today I decided to get over my fear, and I walked through it.
Hereís my big head leaving the tunnel. Just so I can prove to myself that I actually did it.
A zit and some dandruffy looking stuff have been edited out by my best friend, but he refused to edit out the two lines on my forehead. Iíve just recently discovered that those lines arenít normal, and no one else has them. Iíve got a deformed head and Iíve never noticed before. Or rather, I noticed, I just didnít realize that no one else had those, too.
I really hate them. It looks like I had brain surgery.
Now for a lichen interlude:
This one gives me the heebie-jeebies.
I took some pictures of trees, too. Exciting.
And little baby pinecones
Then, I saw the saddest site in the forest. I was walking and saw something shimmering ahead. As I approached, I thought it was broken glass from some teenage party. But it wasnít, it was a tree that had been slaughtered, and was bleeding.
The photos donít do it justice. It was absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking all at once.
I guess this proves Iím a tree hugging hippie.
Thank you to everyone who sent kind words and encouragement. Sometimes I just ramble and need to vent. Itís nice to know that Iím not alone, and that Iím not the only person who has felt like this. Itís also beautifully overwhelming knowing how many people, who have never even met me, care so much for me. Know that I care about every one of you just as much as you care about me. I am so grateful to know each and every one of you.
Thank you for believing in me even when I don't.