Thoughts on leaving the Rocky/Smoky Mountains

We've left Colorado, smoke in the rear view mirror. The President kindly came to town to wish us goodbye. 

If there's some relief at escape, there's also an incredible sense of loss. We may never live anywhere as beautiful again. I will probably never practice my profession again. Tom has to start once more to look for a job. We've left behind the friendliest neighborhood we've ever been part of. It gets harder every time.

In our last week in Colorado Springs I had the same conversation over and over with people: If all their stuff burned, they secretly might be relieved to be rid of it. There is an article or a sermon to be written on that fact--that Americans feel so burdened by their physical belongings that their catastrophic loss might be seen as an escape hatch. 

Another friend noted that being evacuated allowed her family to spend a whole day together for the first time she could remember...dining, swimming, playing games. This friend recently has been desperate to carve out more family time, even seeking professional help on the problem of having too many obligations and too little time. Again, there's something to be said about the fact that it takes a gargantuan natural disaster to stop the hamster wheel and legitimate some downtime in our society.

Numerous people asked what they could do for us. I thank you all for your good thoughts for us and the region. Answer: Do everything you can to support initiatives to curb climate change and support serious sustainable living practices.

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When driving away from most places, you get some time to exit the region psychologically,  moving gradually further from the familiar terrain. Not so the Front Range: The minute you start driving east, the mountains are behind you, and within half an hour you're in an entirely different, flat, ranching world, making you wonder if it was all a dream.