By the time I write this, I’ll have gone to Colorado Springs exactly one month ago. One month ago… I meant to write this earlier, but this beautiful, grotesque world decided to be cruel to me once more, yes? Hmhmhm…
I have never been to Colorado. My mental images of it were: forested mountains of mixed coniferous trees, skiing attractions. The city of Denver. That is all—I knew nothing else about the state, or its people. I did not expect for so much of the land to be open plains grazed by llamas. Just outside the Colorado Springs airport is a mule ranch, owned by a rancher who has been on that land for well over a dozen years rearing the animals. They are black, and beautiful—if mules had supermodels these are them—muscular, well-sheened creatures that I would be happy to marry.