This is a sampling of my photography from my trips and interests.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
OUR LAST DAYS IN CRESTED BUTTE THIS SUMMER
One of the many joys of spending time in Colorado is the wildlife, big and small.
This little chipmunk took a liking to the woodpile on our deck, perhaps because it was a good place to hide from the dangers in the sky, but maybe also because of the sugar water I spilled there while filling the humming bird feeders above.
When we are home, we can always be entertained by the multitude of bike riders coming up the mountain from town - especially the ones who still have the energy to do tricks.
Living across from the horse corral is a real treat, there is always something to see. When the majority of the horses are out for rides, this young colt got to rest in peace.
But one of the biggest excitements this year fir the whole town was the success of a local girl, Emma Coburn who made it to the 2012 Olympics in London in the Women's Steeplechase event. This proud sign was in prominent display at the Arts Festival in town, where we enjoyed several fun hours.
The main street of town was filled with tents of fine works of all types, food provided by local restaurants, and of courses there was music too,
As always in the summer hanging baskets of flowers decorate the shops, and barrels, the street.
At home we spent a lot of time watching the Olympics, and I couldn't resist snapping a couple of shots of Emma in her event from the TV.
She did well competing at that level, a college girl against many professionals.
My last day in Crested Butte I got up early to photograph some flowers and the horses coming in from their night of grazing and rest. Walking across the street I was treated with this beautiful cloud filled sky - left over from the night's rain.
The flowers that I found on my way down into the valley were shinning with drops of water.
I waited quite a while to see if the horses would come in on their own, but as I suspected they had to be herded by one of the hands in an ATV. The treats there for the first arrivals were not enough of an enticement that morning.
The silhouettes of the horses began to appear on the ridge, as more and more began to head back to the corral.
Some of the horses came in groups, some individually, some curious and friendly,
And some, as this white one spooked by the sight of a stranger near their path. However, I was delighted to be there, welcomed or not.