I've had this trip with friends to the Rockies planned for months, am happy I can be here, but it's an adjustment.
I came from the swamps of northern Virginia to 11,500 feet of dry Rocky Mountain air.
The contrasts are delicious.
A few days ago Tara and I were lounging in a kayak in the sun soaking in the summer heat. Yesterday we were hiking in a snow squall, sliding off the hard-packed snow into melting snowbanks.
Last week I started setting up for the hummingbirds. This morning it was 23 degrees and I'm wearing everything I packed.
Today we'll again hike up on the pass, wearing down coats, hats and gloves. I'll be back in the steamy woods of the mid-Atlantic shortly, most probably trying to remember the feeling of biting wind and lashing snow against my face.
Robert Frost said he could summarize life in two words: "It changes."