A few more notes about my travels

As the night wore on and Boulder become drunker, this town, rather than become more obnoxious, as many towns might, it became more charming and grew on me a bit more. Or perhaps it was the wine. In either case, all of the overly-sanitized, organic, athletic, and family-oriented inhabitants seemed to have either gone to bed or let their hair down. Twenty-somethings and fifty-somethings alike shook it to Prince on the dance floor of the wine bar. All seemed right with the world.

Nonetheless, there was still something about this unpretentious yet too perfect place that I still couldn't trust. I still felt like I was in a movie- perhaps the college-town version of Stepford and all the hippies would at any moment morph into fembots. And then I began to wonder- what exactly about a place with such an aura of safety, happiness, and peace made me suspicious?

Then on Sunday, after the party with S's relatives, the couple we stayed with took us for a drive around in the mountains. We went to see Red Rocks ampitheatre and Buffalo Bill's grave. Along the way we also stopped to see the dinosaur footprints and I smiled to myself trying to imagine what excuse non-believers in dinosaurs would make for the footprints' exsistence? Perhaps that it was a prank by some Native American teenagers in the early part of last century? (around the time they were discovered)

For those who have never heard of Red Rocks, it is a huge (perhaps the world's largest) natural amphitheatre. Opera singers who performed there in the late 1800s described it as the most amazing acoustics they had ever experienced. Pretty much everyone who's anyone in the world of music has performed there at some point. It has become a tradition to have a sunrise service there on Easter, attendance at which has now been added to my list of things to do in life. Out there among such grand natural beauty, I think I would feel very close to Jesus's return to life.

After turning in early on Sunday, I got up for a morning run. I was fortunately able to find my way out of Lakewood's (where we were staying) busy traffic and onto a trail aournd a large pond, I once again was struck with the wonder of simply being in a place so pleasing to the eye. And I asked myself what made this place much nicer than so many others? Was it the refreshing breeze? The gentle lapping of the water on the trail? The sun coming up over the Rockies? I remember wanting to absorb every iota of it but not being quite sure how.

Now, after a 26 hour bus ride I am in San Francisco. I love it! (so far) But alas, there is a line for the computer so I must go!