Danielle and I are currently in Avon, CO. We’re slumming at a friend’s house in the rusted brown hills alongside I-70 across the sweeping valley from Beaver Creek ski resort. We have to be at Young Life camp tomorrow afternoon (we’ll be there for a month) so we decided it would be wisely pleasant to spend a few “down” days before the madness of camp kicks in. And madness, it will most assuredly be…

If you haven’t noticed (after all, we do live in America, the one nation on earth that miraculously fails to rally around this glorious, beautiful game), the FIFA World Cup is occurring over in Germany and I, a former soccer/futbol player, have been glued to the TV set catching as many games as I can before I am forced to retreat inside the bubble of camp. Recap: the U.S. national team played horribly on Thursday and got uber-slapped  3-nil by the Czech Republic. The Americans looked timid like JV upstarts. Hopefully they’ll actually show up and decide to make it a match against Italy tomorrow.

We spent a large portion of the afternoon beneath the bright blue skies and quivering leaves of aspens in and near the Beaver Creek ski resort. These places are funny in that they are completely unlike their selves in the winter months: wet snow gives way to dry, baked dust and rock while bundled up extremeties gives way to sandal- and t-shirt-wearing males and females. Being a man without “means”, I also feel more than out of place in such luxurious setting what with all the expensive fur, jewelry and clothing shops nestled among the mock-European quadrangle. I lugged my water bottle, my copy of Peace Like a River (Leif Enger) and my backpack across the parking lot and we settled in for some outdoor reading on the cobbled stones next to a Starbucks. Danielle is reading Flannery O’Conner’s greatest hits and she made me laugh several times in reading out loud a few hilarious excerpts (The Turkey, A Good Man is Hard to Find). We read for awhile and watched the swarms of Suzuki Method students (apparently there was a conference going on at the resort) carrying their various instruments to and fro. The funnier part of the day came when what started out as a vague chant became louder and more audible as the group of children actually doing the chanting came up the steps and passed by where we were seated. They waved homemade banners and flags and carried paper plates full of iced cookies. Their chant: “Cookies for the animal shelter”, spoken/sung only as little children could do: excited, high first syllables followed by lower second and third syllables. Only a songbird could approach that type of vocalization, and then again I’m not so sure it could match them. Hilarious.

At some point, we decided to put down our books and further take advantage of the weather and go for a mile-or-so hike.  We chose a path that took us up a few switchbacks underneath ski lifts and out onto open hill and further, and finally, into a grove of aspen. Wearing sandals is not the smartest way to hike but our legs and feet proved worthy. Our bodies thanked us for it. Besides, it felt great to be in the midst of a such a large living organism, breathing fresh air, seeing an antlered deer, hearing bird songs I didn’t recognize, wondering if we were going to run into a surprised bear along the path, and then to ease out of the trees once again and slowly saunter back down the hill. My wife is gorgeous – perhaps even more so - in the sunshine. I can damn near watch her already naturally olive skin turning even darker shades of brown the more the light bursts upon it. It is quite a sight especially since my pale white skin burns to a crisp at the mere hint of sunshine…

A delicious Thai meal and a movie rounded out the night. Thank God for it all.
EP