A Different Kind of Garden

Breathing in the peaceful solitude of The Garden of the Gods.

The other weekend marked a local road trip excursion running south to Colorado Springs, CO to The Garden of the Gods.

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On entering The Garden of the Gods, a giant plaque came into view on following the sidewalks into the midst of the open space, reminding everyone that this beautiful place was a gift – and that added a layer of appreciation to the entire visit. Truly, some family could have kept this to themselves – but generously gave it to the city for all to get to enjoy.

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The Garden of the Gods is otherworldly. It’s calm, and buffered; almost an enormous waiting room to be still, away from the world, just beyond the hills. The high walls and cliffs jutting up to form barriers between the hustle and bustle of Colorado Springs below.

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Like many of the public parks and spaces in Colorado, it’s very well-kept and a clean space to enjoy. Paved sidewalks in all directions are plenty; you could spend hours just following them all.

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While walking around I noticed that hawks and pigeons quietly held sentry on the ledges above. There was stillness here. Other than the squeal of an excited child or brief laughter, the Garden is quiet. You really don’t want to leave.

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Craggy and contrasting peaks rise in all directions.

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The landscape is otherworldly.

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It’s all fun and games until someone turns on a drone and ruins the peaceful quiet. I’m sure they got great photos, but at the cost of the peace of everyone else there (and the wildlife).

 

Different Rockies Every Day

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The awe-inspiring views of the Rocky Mountains always pull my attention from the hamster wheel of daily life. Whether I’m running errands, pulling into my subdivision or taking a walk, I can’t help but look westward and get lost in the moment wherever I am.

While driving back to Colorado this afternoon, I caught myself thinking how beautiful and different this day was in contrast all the prior weekends.

Their colors depend on the sky, clouds and light. Their contrast changes with the seasons and the winter snows. Every morning, new mountains, filling the same shape and size, seem to replace the last.

But they still take my breath away, and I hope they always do.