Aspen Alley and the Quiet West

Last weekend I had the opportunity to take a two-hour drive with some dear friends up over the Snowy Mountains and into the Sierra Madres of Carbon County. We came to Aspen Alley. Wyoming’s fall may not be as colorful as New England’s, but it is still stunning. The aspen tree leaves turn to a bright pollen color, as if they’ve soaked in the color of the sun, making everything look like it has been coated in amber or dusted in gold.

Carbon County’s beauty just proves my devotion to the autumn season. It remains the perfect time of year, and my favorite. It is an artist’s paradise.

We picked a clearing in the grove to set out several folding chairs while we picnicked on sandwiches and grapes. For the first time in over four months I was cold and it felt great. I borrowed Kaijsa’s Washington sweatshirt and snapped a few dozen photos of our group as we relished the serene surroundings.

On our return, we stopped in the tiny town of Woods Landing for pie and coffee. What better way to top off the American trails than with the all-American dessert? We turned out our pockets for change and invited the jukebox to play Elvis, MeatLoaf and some Bob Dylan.

Coming back into town, I reflected on our day. It is times like these that tell me why I love the quiet west. There are rare occasions and infrequent places that allow us to commune so closely with the natural world. Like Thoreau, I too wish to transcend from the hustle-bustle of urbanity. When I do, my mood shifts upwards and I see what contentment looks like. Here I can breathe.