Slowly, day by day, the rain has dried up, the sun has reappeared and we’re finally into summer.  The days are long and delicious and the breeze carries the scent of Ponderosa pine and nearby hay fields.   The sun sets so late and rises so early that, aided by a moon climbing towards full, the nights are hardly dark at all.  Most days I’m up at 3:30am taking to my mat for an hour of silence.  It’s deeply quiet – by far the quietest place I’ve lived in since my three years at the monastery in Snowmass, Colorado.   The refrigerator occasionally hums in the kitchen, the sound of the creek is slowly fading away as the flow drops and sometimes the air carries the sound of mules braying down the road or one of the distant peacocks or the local owls calling from somewhere in the woods.  This quiet place, in the midst of a full-on-summer, is amazing.

We’re gearing up for family visits.  Mothers, fathers, siblings and kids are all finding their way out this summer to what we think of as our full time vacation home.  The Texas sib (Karen, Tory, Hannah, Cord and Day) escaped from the hellishly hot Austin summer and ran full into the worst part of our mosquito outbreak.  It lasts about two weeks and they saw two days of it.  But they also got some snow on a ridge-line hike we all took and I hope it was a worthwhile tradeoff for them.

Molly, Waiting For The Discussion To End

Cord Gets Some Snow Action

Mastering The Technique of Glissading

Hannah, Just Before the Snowball War Begins

It’s a great time of year.  For awhile now it’s where we call home.

Home on the (Blue Mountain) Range

Lupines and Green Summer Grass