The first time I set foot in Colorado, it was the sheer vastness of the landscape that seized my gaze. The endless canyons, rising ever higher into the mountains, seemed to stretch beyond the horizon, dissolving into the heavens themselves. But it wasn’t just the immensity that stole my breath it was the purity of the light. At that altitude, so far from the bustle of civilization, the light seemed to dance with an ethereal grace, bathing everything in its gentle glow. The colors so soft, so delicate, blended together in a symphony of hues, as if nature itself had painted the world with a delicate hand. In those moments, it felt like I was suspended in a space between earth and sky, a place where time was measured only by the changing light.

I long to turn my gaze outward towards that “Big Sky”. Nothing stirs my soul more than the sight of a magnificent sunset ablaze a shimmering sea, or the clouds rolling in over the peaks, their shadows creeping across the land. The more sky, the better, its endless expanse brings a kind of freedom, a quiet knowing that there’s always more to see, more to experience, if only you allow your eyes to roam. And the closer I am to nature, the clearer my vision becomes, for there, amidst the purity of the elements, I see things as they truly are, the sun is still shining, yet “the storms they are a brewing”, as we say in Old New England.

There’s something about that tension between serenity and turbulence that speaks to me. It is like the world itself is holding its breath. It’s in the calm before the storm and the sky starts to turn heavy in the shifting light and the land seems to hum with anticipation. Beauty isn’t just in the stillness.  It’s in the promise of transformation that lives in every gust of wind, every cloud drifting across the sky, every ray of light that dances from the heavens. In those moments, I realize how deeply we are woven into the fabric of nature, how everything around us is always in motion, even when it seems so still.