We drove up on Casper Mountain, earlier this week. The Quaking Aspens had just started to change from bright green to a shimmering gold, made even more so as the sun struck them. They flowed down the ravines among the darker Ponderosa Pines and stood in groups on the edges of the meadows.

It came to me that aspens are very gentle, peaceful trees; demure, shimmering slightly even in no breeze. Their beautiful white trunks rising straight up, reaching so high before branching out; before offering a canopy of gentle green.

The golden clusters reminded me of groups of Buddhist monks in their saffron robes, winding down the zigzag steps of the old Potala Palace in Tibet.

It was a comforting site, a constant in my life, these wonderful, undemanding trees. Glorious in the sunshine, mottled and demure in the shade, offering a visual assurance when nothing else could in the rubble of the past weeks' events.

Namaste

kat