When we left the sultry Gulf Coast, late-May climate for Colorado last week, I wasn’t thinking about spring. We were way past spring down south; in my mind, we were on to summer.
But when we got to the Rockies, especially in the lower elevations of the front range for our hiking trip along Devil’s Backbone, spring had a thing going on.
The verdant, grassy meadows below the jagged crests of the heights spread away across rolling valleys below. The fragrance of thousands of blooming plants—-from prickly-pear cacti to sage brush—-drifted delicately in sunny breeze all along the twisting, winding trail. The sensory sensations were subtle, never overpowering; but the airy fragrance was pervasive, fascinating, as the tone and tenor of varied aromas and combinations of aromas waxed and waned along the trail, depending on the species of flora and fauna nearest by.
The weather was perfect, too. Morning low 48/afternoon high 72, sunny, just breezy enough to dry the sweat brought on by the hike’s exertion.
Of all the spring days I’ve known, I believe this one was the queen of them all. The “r-o-c-k” in “Rocky Mountains” surely applies to the season.