hear that bass beating?

...

Music from basement warms my heart.

Both Dani and Jake are home for the weekend, so this is one happy momma.

Whenever Jake comes home, his band gets together for a jam session. In fact, that's usually the main reason he comes home. But I don't care of the reason because the bottom line is that he's home for some period.

As I sat and listened to the music coming up from the basement, I was reminded how much I miss hearing it. It used to be every Saturday that the boys would come over. I wasn't always happy about it because, well, let's face it... it's loud. Just as it is with other things in life, some times you don't realize how much you like something until it's gone. That's the way I'm feeling now.

And not only am I enjoying the music, but the boys themselves. I love when they come up for lunch (Don barbecued hot dogs), sit around my table, and talk about their lives with each other. Some times I join in the conversation, some times I just listen to theirs. I've watched these boys for the last 4+ years and it's been a joy to watch them grow up into the young men they have become.

I sit here content and happy.

Six Word Saturday is hosted by at Cate at Show My Face.

my three wishes

Last weekend, Don and I went up into the mountains to enjoy the scenery and wildlife. I had two wishes as we planned the trip. Those two wishes were to enjoy viewing the colors that were changing from the greens of Summer to the golds of Fall, and to hang out at dusk so we could watch the mating rituals of the elk and hear the bull elk bugle. I added one more wish to my wish list on our way up and that was to see a moose, which I have never done here in Colorado (only in Alaska).

We spent most of our time in Rocky Mountain National Park and here's how I did on those wishes...


The change in colors hadn't hit their peak yet so there weren't the vibrant colors I had hoped for, but there were still obvious color change. I realized that my amber sunglasses made the colors even better.


I did see a moose. In fact, I saw four moose. This cow, in the above picture, was spotted late afternoon and then a young bull was spotted about an hour later. We got ourselves out the door the next morning very early and went back to where we saw the first moose. We weren't disappointed. There was a fairly big bull there in the field. While I was elsewhere, photographing some elk eating grass on the side of the road, Don saw a baby moose. Later, when he was in the car, I saw an even larger bull. So we each saw four, but not the same five between the two of us. I never expected to see even one so it was a real treat for us.


But the real treat was watching the elk herds during their mating period. It's quite an interesting show. The bull elks are on a quest to collect cows for their harem (yes, that's what it's called). Of course, there's competition between the males and clashing of antlers ensue. But most of the time it's a spectacle of watching the bulls trying to keep their gals in a tight circle and from running off.

And then there's the bugling. If you've never heard an elk bugle, you're missing quite the treat. Bugling is an almost indescribable sound that communicates strength, size and vigor. They use their remarkable vocal skills to attract cows and intimidate rivals.


The show starts at dusk and goes until you can barely see them any more due to the darkness. The second evening, we were entertained by this ritual at a VERY close range. So close, that the ranger had to continually make all the spectators move back, for our own safety. It was a thrilling show!

We also took a short hike to a waterfall, walked through the town of Grand Lake, threw a stick out into the lake over and over again for our dog, found comfy places to sit and read, and drove around in areas we hadn't visited before. It was a great weekend.

too close for comfort

I know a lot of people don't listen to or read the news anymore. I can't really blame them. It can all be very negative and overwhelming. But there's a major story being reported right now about a man who is accused of being a ringleader to a terrorist group, plotting to plant explosives on transit lines here in the states.

Najibullah Zazi was born in Afghanistan, lived for some time in Pakistan and has been a U.S. resident for the past 10 years. I won't go into all the details here, but you can read more about him and what has been reported in the news here and here.

You may have heard or noticed that this man's questioning and arrest has taken place here in Denver. To be more exact, here in Aurora (where I live). To be even more precise, this accused terrorist lives right down the street from me. I mean, RIGHT DOWN THE STREET.

I drive by the apartments where he resides on a nearly daily basis. The day they searched his apartment (which took the whole day), they didn't release the kids from the local middle school, at the end of their day, because they didn't want the students to go home to that apartment complex. This was the same school I worked at last year. I know some of these students.

I find all of this disturbing; a little too close for comfort. I find any report on terrorism disturbing and scary. It makes it even scarier that this guy lives in my neighborhood, that he may shop in the same grocery store as I, that he may eat in the same restaurants or spend time in my beloved plaza. I continue to watch the news, wishing it wasn't happening in my backyard, but it is. It makes me realize that this kind of thing can happen anywhere. And it is... here!