Simplicity in a Colorado Campground

This morning at our campground outside Durango, Colorado I sat on the green painted wooden picnic table just outside our RV.  I watched the Lazy E ranch across the green field.  There were four horses grazing on the fenced in ranch land.  They were each a distinct color.  But they twitched their tails like they were performing a synchronized dance. The tan and off-white pair didn’t part from one another.  The burnt orange horse stayed at the top of the hill.  The black one moved around and neighed often.  There was a brilliant white mare pacing in the corral.  She tossed her head and shook her mane as she walked around and around, her body’s response to taming perhaps.

While I was watching the horses, Bisous sniffed bushes, peed and ate grass.  He had just wandered back to the picnic table when we saw two mule deer following the path about 50 yards in front of us.  I silently beckoned Bisous onto the table next to me, where he sat, eyes never leaving the deer.  The pair, one mother, one teenager, stopped and stared at us.  Fully still.  Not even their breath was detectable.  We stared back.  I could feel Bisous’ heightened breathing under my hand.  The mother deer shifted her gaze forward and began her saunter again.  The younger one followed.  Their ears, the size of garden shovels, stood tall and twitched.  Their white rumps looked like giant, hairy abalone. They slowly faded into the trees.

Now the squirrels or chipmunks scamper around the trees.  The ground constantly moves and shifts with pinky-nail size fire ants and flies. Birds flit from tree to tree, sometimes touching down to a bush or the ground, while hawks circle the skies, wings spread wide, riding subtle vortices of winds. The gentle breezes are cool and the sun is hot.