Little House on the Prairie
As I’m aging, not always gracefully, there are things I can’t or won’t do anymore. One of them is driving at night, unless I’m in very familiar territory in well-lit areas. I just don’t see as well at night as I wish I did. I figure next time I go to the optometrist, I need to ask about this. Perhaps new glasses and a different coating would help. I only wear glasses to drive, so maybe there is a solution.
Anyway, this means I rarely am driving anywhere at dusk or after dark, by choice. But the last few days at work have had me leaving right at sunset or just before, and by the time I hit the country roads that take me through the rolling high prairie that stretches in front of the mountains, it is getting dark. I worry about hitting wildlife, as there’s plenty of it. In the daylight I see raptors of every kind, from Osprey to Falcons to Bald Eagles. I see coyotes and fox, and the occasional young deer. At dusk there’s no chance of me seeing them before they bolt in front of me, so I’m cautious. The more daylight I have, the less nervous I am.
This time of year, it gets dark quickly, and here with mountains in the way, sunset actually happens twenty minutes earlier than it does in other places. Dark happens fast. But there is one advantage to driving at dusk like this. For whatever reason, holiday decorations are big here. In my own town, at least half the houses on any given street are decorated with lights and other finery. And it’s no different as I’m driving that ten miles of rolling prairie. Off in the distance, within a cluster of trees or backed against a hill, will be a house lit with lights, sparkling in the dusk like a refuge from the cold. The mountains loom cold and tall to the west, and beneath them, in the shadow of dusk, warm, colorful lights outline roofs, garages, and fences. When the snow falls, it all looks like the most amazing fairy land you can imagine.
Those houses lit up on the rolling high prairie, with their little corrals holding horses, or sheep, or llamas, make me all kinds of jealous. In the daylight, I know what they look like. They are surrounded by rail fences, chickens pecking in the yard, pine trees planted strategically on their western side to block the wind. They look out over the prairie, or up to the mountains, and they have huge stone fireplaces to keep them warm in winter. It is what I think of when I think of Colorado. I want one of those places.
That is if I don’t just go all the way and move right on into the mountains. I’d better start saving my money.
