Always a Surprise

For weeks now, I've been wanting to drive up to the lower mountains (or upper foothills) and get a snowbound photo to go with February's post on my special gulch.

We finally did the tour on Mother's Day, with MiL along for a delightful ride, but the snow that afternoon was old and tired looking. We did see the first few bison calves of the season at Genesee Park, small light brown lumps near large darker brown humps of mom. Happy Mother's Day, girls; and Happy Birthday, bisonlings. Click for full-screen to find two of each, moms and newbies. (Yes, that's a house in the background.)

We had a cool wet week, so I returned on Friday (mind, we're talking May 16th now) in search of fresher, cleaner snow. I guess the surprise was that there wasn't more of it—but the snow provided the winter view I'd neglected to acquire back in Jan-Feb when driving there would have been more challenging. Along with it came an ice-cold, crystal-clear omen of mosses, ferns, and wildflowers to come.

While I was revisiting winter, the Husband was driving to Moab, UT, for a weekend of biking in the high desert. He called with talk of Desert Trumpets and the news that he'd purchased a wildflower guide. Shows to go: after 28 years of marriage, your spouse can still surprise you! All weekend the talk, when he called, was of the fragrance of Cliffrose along the road, or the ephemeral flowers of Evening-Primrose, or even the scorched earth efforts to eradicate Tamarisk along the Colorado River.

Then yesterday, the Handy Helper and I were working on house stuff (he painting, me organizing, sort of) when I called him outside to see a Golden Eagle soaring overhead. The importance of looking up. An hour later, the Husband got home from his trip and called my attention to the First Wisteria Blossom in the exact opposite direction, which I'd completely missed! Go figure.

As you might imagine, Wisteria does not grow in Colorado. I did not know that 25 years ago when, in all innocence, I mail-ordered this one and planted it on the east side of our new home in the foothills. It grew rampantly; in fact, it's taken over two trellises and tries to choke itself annually. Two years ago, it decided to bloom, and was covered with flower buds in promising drooping inflorescences, one of which opened. I began to plan elegant tea parties under the arbor. Really! (I know, another surprise.) Then came June, a very dry June, and no more blooms were seen. Until yesterday.

I had a fabulous weekend myself, though not exactly FF-bloggable material. It was one of those rare occasions when Life was more fun than Blogging. Imagine!