I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
— Irving Berlin

This is what I woke up to on Christmas morning . . .

But Christmas started much earlier here . . . The first week in December Dondi brought over her Christmas decorations for the Ranch House . . .  box after box of wreaths and garlands and lights and ornaments and table decorations and a 10-foot-tall Christmas tree.  When I finished putting it all together, here is what it looked like.  (Click arrows to page through photos.)

I love long dinners with friends.
–Sylvia Hoeks

Last night I had my first dinner party at the Ranch House. There were six of us — Dondi, Todd and John who live at River Stone Ranch, and Cynthia and Rey, and me.  

On the menu:  Beef short ribs in the slow cooker, glazed carrots, oven-roasted green beans, and mashed potatoes. Cynthia brought an arugula and pear salad. John built a fire (and came back the next morning and cleaned the fireplace!). We found out that Dondi’s birthday was the next day, so Cynthia brought a chocolate mousse cake from PJs.

What some people call serendipity is sometimes just having your eyes open.
— Jose Manuel Barroso

As I drove down County Road 250 this morning on my way to the grocery store, I was happily drinking in the color of the golden and yellow trees that lined the road.

Then I rounded a curve and saw the balloons.

First one big red balloon, then a blue, then a yellow one.  Then a whole sky full.

It put a smile on the face of my already beautiful and crisp Saturday morning.  I pulled to the side of the road, along with other drivers lucky enough to be on this particular road at this particular time. We watched while the balloons rose higher and higher and drifted south toward town.

That what I love about Durango . . .  the serendipitous sights.

Like driving home one afternoon and seeing a herd of elk grazing in one of the fields that line the road on which I live.

Home isn’t where you’re from, it’s where you find light when all grows dark.
-– Pierce Brown

October 13:  After spending almost three weeks in Cynthia and Rey’s guest house, I moved into the Ranch House at River Stone Ranch on Labor Day. It is just half a mile from Cynthia and Rey.  Having spent the past two-and-a-half months on the road, I am more than ready to find a place that feels like home.

River Stone Ranch is on County Road 250 about 10 miles north of Durango — a beautiful property of about three acres with an abundance of tall trees. You feel like you’re deep in the mountains when you drive down CR 250, surrounded by trees, with red cliffs on one side and the Animus River on the other, and in the distance the San Juan Mountains which are snow- capped much of the year.   

The mountains are calling and I must go.
—  John Muir  (paraphrasing)

Sunday, August 15.  My road trip to the East Coast is over, and I’ve returned to the West, to the mountains and red cliffs of Durango.

Cynthia invited me to spend the rest of August in her guest cabin where I’ve spent many happy days over the past three years.  I accepted her invitation before she could get all the words out of her mouth.

I couldn’t have landed here at a better time.  Sunny days with temps in the low-mid 80s . . . nights in high 50s . . . low humidity (today it is 14%) . . . and just enough breeze to move the air around a bit. I’ve been hearing about the heat wave and storms passing through places I’ve just driven through — Kansas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee, North Carolina — and I feel lucky to be here in this beautiful place.