We took a walk to explore a nearby park. I say “park” because that’s what the city calls it, but it turned out to be more like a rain forest, right in the middle of a residential neighborhood. The trees form a lush canopy and many of them are covered in moss. A creek winds through the park and there are a few places where you have to walk through the water to follow the main trail.
I must have said, at least five times, how beautiful the place was. I said it would be nice to come back and run the trail sometime. I said all of that because I was trying to suppress a steady stream of terrifying thoughts. Continue reading →
I spent a long weekend in Seattle with a girlfriend, a fellow single woman in her 30s. We went to visit friends and celebrate Independence Day. We did practically nothing related to celebrating our nation’s independence, but we savored every morsel of our own personal independence.
My wonderful friend Jim recently hosted a house concert for Callaghan, the British singer-songwriter, at his home in Arizona. I was lucky enough to attend. It was an incredible evening, in many ways; I may never forget it.
Jim had this date booked months in advance, as part of Callaghan’s House Concert Tour.
To prepare for the evening, Jim had to completely empty his living room in order to make room for a microphone, some speakers, a full-sized keyboard, and of course, Callaghan herself. Then he pulled in every available chair in the house — desk chairs, dining chairs, patio chairs — enough to seat 15 or 20 of his friends and neighbors. He also prepared a guest bedroom to accommodate Callaghan and her husband Steve for the night, which I assume meant ridding it of any personal effects. I imagine this process must have been like the ordinary houseguest panic (“Company’s coming! Hide the clutter!!!”), on steroids (“A gorgeous semi-famous person is coming and she’s going to sleep in my house! Hide everything!”).
The Colorado Shakespeare Festival is one of my favorite Colorado experiences. Over the weekend, I attended for the second time, and I am happy to report that the experience was every bit as wonderful as I had remembered it.
Tonight I watched the sun set over downtown Phoenix as I rode in an Über to Ahwatukee. I sometimes forget how spectacular the evening sky can be in Arizona. The only way to truly remember is to be there again and see it in person. The colors are rich and electric, almost neon. It’s as if Van Gogh tried to paint what summer romance feels like. Pollution has its benefits.
Last night, I saw Belle & Sebastian perform with the Colorado Symphony at Red Rocks, the beloved natural amphitheater set in the foothills of Morrison, Colorado. It’s an incredible venue. Every time I visit, I leave with a kind of euphoria afterward, and it persists for days.
I’m a chatterbox, to be sure. But even I struggle to articulate how much I love being at Red Rocks, or what it is exactly that I love so much about it. Continue reading →
I’m worried that I may have died in my sleep last night. There seems to be a real possibility that I’m in hell now but no one has told me yet. I’m having a hard time believing that I actually woke up in Phoenix, Arizona on this June morning. Continue reading →
If we’re going to talk about the weather in Denver, let’s not waste our time on the snow. Denver’s real weather story happens in the summer.
At summertime, the foothills of the Rockies become a stage for some incredible rainstorms. From my west-facing high-rise apartment, just south of downtown, I have balcony seating for a meteorological opera that runs all season. The sets are breathtaking.
Lately, there have been afternoons when the sky was so ominous that it felt like a scene from Ghostbusters, with dark, threatening clouds hanging low above the neighboring buildings.