Colorado Mountain Skies
Bright blue skies, orange clouds, bilious storm clouds, fiery sunrises and passionate sunsets.
Most times the cloud formations are only visible for a short while and they’re gone. When I lived in Highlands Ranch on the greenbelt at Redstone Park I saw the gorgeous skies at a distance (I know; what am I doing HERE? It’s a cautionary tale of the myth of ‘following your dreams’ but I digress). There was time to prepare for stormy conditions and winds that catapulted the deck furniture from one end of the deck to the other and you had time to put your car in the garage before hail dimpled its exterior.
In Colorado, hail pock-marks are almost a badge of honor. After 16 years of living up here my car was finally pummeled and dented by a hail storm that was only a mile wide of unleashed hell. The sound in the car was deafening, the wipers couldn’t keep the hail from building up, the defroster couldn’t keep the windshield free of fog. By the time I got from Conifer Road to the meadow, my car is pretty well dinged up from hail. After the meadow, it was gentle rain and there was no hail or damage at my house.
Up here, the clouds encircle you and their light casts a glow and you’re part of it. Alpenglow or ‘God light’ is common up here, untainted by city light and pollution. It’s otherworldly to see and be a part of. The light envelopes everything in a wash and you can ‘feel’ it in your eyes.
The skies up here are as varied as the trees.
When the sky would put on a show, I used to run out with my Nikon D300 and try to capture the absolute color temperature, white balance and depth. Nowadays I use my iPhone, well, because it’s just easier. There’s not as much control as with a manual camera. By the time I get my Nikon(s) out and make adjustments, valuable seconds are lost in photographic minutia. I used to shoot faster but hey, whatever.
A lot of sunsets are created by wildfire smoke from neighboring states. Those skies have an orange haze just like the color a Creamsicle. Orange skies both beautiful and sad. Wildfire smoke is a reminder of the destruction and death nearby.
Every day of the year, there’s a wildfire somewhere in the western United States. The most destructive fire in Colorado started on December 30, 2021 when the Marshall Fire wiped out homes, small businesses and large corporate stores. Fire driven by 100-mph winds can’t be fought, it must be endured. My friend, Kim and her husband lived in Boulder County at the time. Police in the area told them to pre-evacuate but not to worry – the fire wasn’t headed in their direction. Kim said she grabbed her purse and her husband grabbed his wallet and phone as if they were going to the store. They left expecting to return shortly with a sense of relief that their home was still standing.
Not even the foundation survived the heat and flames that took their house, memories and pets all while plunging their life into chaos. Lucky for them they have a second home in Evergreen and were able to manage the quagmire that is insurance claims, lawsuits and assigning blame. Their check came through 6 weeks ago and now they’re buying a home back in the same area.
The sky that day at my house was no different than any other day. Summer blue in December. I had to come to town and experienced the wild winds and saw the black smoke to the north. A fire tutorial for you: trees create white smoke, buildings make black smoke. That day the smoke was a grayish black and obvious that something was very wrong. I high-tailed it home in case the fire made it my area.
Storms provide another kind of sky. The hard thing about this house is you don’t see the storms coming. With Black Mountain right there behind Shadow Mountain, storms ‘pop-up’ with ferocity that jangles the nerves. My house’s altitude is 9,000 feet. Storms don’t descend in altitude as they march across the sky so experiencing thunder and lightning up here can be unnerving. The mountain behind me is struck by lightning all the time. Ask the next-door neighbor whose house was hit by lightning 10 years ago. I was home and when it got struck. The bright blue light was followed by a deafening thunder explosion and I knew something was hit. Later I talked with the neighbor who said the fridge, washer, dryer, computers, lights and even electric items NOT plugged in got fried.
But storms in the middle of the night are the worst. No warning, no chance to bring potted plants under the eaves and protect them the always reliable hail in the summer months. They usually bring a deluge that tests the gutter/drainpipe system but the latest iteration works. It can handle large amount of rain and now overflow the gutters.
But there’s skies everywhere you go. I’m familiar with the skies of the Denver area, not inspired, but familiar. Not like the skies and light of Italy that as a child is something I remember. The clear blue skies of Seattle when Mt. Rainier can be seen, floating above the landscape to the south. The skies of Crested Butte on a snowy day where blinding snow and sapphire blue collide. The morning sunrises that never happen in Monterrey because the mountains block the rising sun but as the sun rises in the sky the fog creates a surreal light only found in that part of California.
Skies, skies everywhere. Lots of sky.
