Impression Evergreen

Snowy Sangre de Cristos As the setting, winter sun makes its swift descent, the snowy Sangre de Cristos shimmer like a smokey, blue mirage. The peaks’ jagged silhouette is traced by a glowing contour, exaggerating the mountains’ awesome size and power. Scattered throughout the Wet Mountain Valley, abandoned homesteads offer sentimental value to the romantic, western landscape. Reinforcing the peaceful ambiance, horses graze happily in their pastures of paradise. Don’t be frightened by the mountains’ harsh nature and rugged features but let their irresistible magnetism draw you in. While navigating through the inevitable turmoil of a busy life, I catch myself reminiscing about these incredible crags and how they’re someplace I’d rather be. Sangre de Cristo Range Incredible crags Sentimental value Someplace I'd rather be Awesome size and power A jagged silhouette Rugged features Peaceful ambiance A blue mirage An abandoned homestead Grazing horses Wet Mountain Valley

Winter Storm Kade Just hours after a furry groundhog in Pennsylvania prophesied a swift spring arrival, a brutal winter storm hammered the foothills in Colorado. It was a classic example of the old adage - Big flakes, small snow. Small flakes, big snow. The tiny snowflakes poured like rain through a bitterly cold night, resulting in a smothered landscape buried below deep snow. The crystalline powder was piled into fragile drifts that shifted in a brisk wind. After experiencing our least snowiest January in 50 years, the blizzard was a stunning slap in the face, snapping us back into the reality of winter conditions in the mountains. The glorious daybreak was punctuated by a bright sun whose sleek rays leaked through the branches of a dense woodland. The low, diffused light spread throughout the forest creating a curious combination of fluorescence and shadow. Seen across the valley from a high vantage point, Bergen Peak was a regal monarch robed in white, a frozen monument

The old, stone house Deep in the sandhills of western Nebraska, the old stone house is ruined. It's settled in a secluded valley, serving as a crumbling reminder of days gone by. One can only imagine what it must have been like during its heyday. Maybe a peaceful retreat far from the bustle of city life as the nearest town was across the river bridge some ten miles away. It was probably a difficult life dominated by the region's circulation of seasonal weather patterns. The summer sun was searing and the winter storms were brutal. Raising cattle was the only way to make a living with lush prairie grasses supplying the perfect subsistence for the grazing herd. A deep well was dug and capped with a windmill that poured precious water into a rock-hewn tank. Wooden planks and posts are scattered across the yard, indicating where the horses were once corralled. Out back in a ravine filled with purple wildflowers, a now rusted pickup would have been a more modern mode of

Dugout Creek, Nebraska On the day before the storm, the December weather was unusually warm. Dugout Creek meandered slowly through a golden pasture of prairie grassland. By late afternoon, the sprawling sandhills were saturated with yellow sunshine. Along the curvy creek bank, a barren forest of twisted trees was glowing orange in the last light. Just when it was beginning to look like a yellow Christmas, the sky turned ominous, temperatures dropped and a terrible blizzard ensued. The old homestead appeared divine while cloaked in the western Nebraska whiteout. Morning after the storm and the place was covered with deep snow. The cold water creek was crystal clear as it faithfully reflected a broken blue sky. After a surprising delay, winter has finally arrived on the Great Plains. The past year has been an unpredictable barrage of challenges and change so it’s nice to see that maybe things are starting to get back to normal. The weather was unusually warm The cre

The Nebraska Sandhills Flowing through the southern Sandhills of western Nebraska, an irrigation canal offers some relief from the sweltering, summer heat. A ditch road that runs alongside the waterway is the perfect path for a morning hike. Rain from the night before creates a thick haze that burns off into white clouds as the day begins. Even though filtered light glazes the landscape with gold, the pastures seem greener than normal this year. A bunch of shaggy sheep are vocal inhabitants while swallows skim across the water’s smooth surface. Sometimes I’ll see wary jackrabbits or a white-tailed deer but in this big sky county, cattle are king. They are voracious grazers but when confronted by peculiar visitors, it piques their interest. Cows and calves come running in order to get a closer look at the unexpected newcomers. The deep, blue water is a natural barrier between us and the domestic beasts so the situation remains completely harmless. As we continue on our prai