A High Altitude Assumption

I was high in the Rockies on Assumption Day, at Snow Mountain Ranch, Colorado. It was a perfect day in many ways and I spent an hour or so in the afternoon at the outdoor sanctuary by myself, not another soul in sight. I had spent the morning doing a copper rubbing of Da Vinci's Last Supper and so missed (blessedly) the death march started at noon up Snow Mountain by my cabin mates. My niece Laurie loves to take people up to Hell's gate and I learned the first trip that going up Snow Mountain was just a bit of an ordeal. This year I had not been sleeping well up there, with strange dreams of pigeons in peril and two requiems back at the shrine church, so all that combined with the usual New York fatigue made me feel lazy most of the time. I did go on the Zip Line again and managed to climb up that 25 foot pole faster than I did 2 years ago and jump off the top with almost enthusiasm. But Assumption afternoon was my favorite time there. I missed being at Solemn Mass for a minute or two but I was soon distracted by how awesomely quiet it was and then just relished breathing that clear mountain air (no incense necessary). Later on I met the gang back at the Craft Shop where Evan and I made dreamcatchers and tie-dye t-shirts before we headed back for dinner. Mark and I made a grand Mexican fiesta for the 10 of us and then we headed over to Hawkquest and saw some amazing birds, including a gorgeous owl and a "bald" eagle. We then headed home in a torrential thunder and lightning storm. That night I put my dreamcatcher up and promptly had the scariest dream I've had in years, about demon kids that looked like Chucky and Bride of Chucky lurking in the closets. I probably should have hung my rosary up instead.