When we first got to our land small Gambel Oak trees thwarted our view of the mountains and terrain. Two of our four corner posts were easy to discover by natural barriers; two very large Ponderosa Pine trees, one on either side of the boundaries told us where home would be. From the road frontage there were no distinguishing features that set our land apart from the hundred of acres encompassing it. When we stepped out of the truck, the fresh mountain air wafted our hair, a gentle breeze on a brisk afternoon. The sun high above scolding down upon us, slowly heating up.
We were strangers to this land, unknown to the forest and animals. We parted gambels and slowly walked through the interior of the property. The brush opened up and there we stood, looking out at the Native peaks of the Southern Ute tribe across the rolling valley. Along the edges of our border we were surrounded by an abundance of pine. The soil scorched by the early spring sun, boulders popping up out of the crusted earth. Every tree, rock, and root a story to tell of their own. So beautiful, so quiet. The entire mountain stood still. No roar of gasoline engines, no shouts of neighborhood madness. Just us, alone meeting our land for the first time with eyes wide open.
We grabbed one of the many falsa blankets from the back of our truck and found a tree to nestle under while staring out at the land. Spirits elevated while daydreaming up the preliminary plans of our soon-to-be humble abode. This memory so beautiful, for it marks the very foundation of not only our home, but our deep rooted love. Both together expanding our minds and hearts toward something supremely sublime. 24 and 21 years old, starting a life that many only dream of….
Posts From The Pines 