Walking on the beach yesterday, I turned my I-Pod off, and let the rhythmic ocean fill my ears.

I thought about my home on the range, and how my eyes are always filled with the mountains there, but also of the dead silence of winter on the Rocky Mountain Front.  Birds do not chirp.  Winds do not ruffle the waters of Gretchen’s Mirror, or cause the laundry to snap on the line.

But then sunset came to Galveston.

And I realized that my eyes can be as equally filled by the Gulf as they are by the Rockies.

I’d like Crayola to come up with this crayon, and christen it … nutmegged tangerine?  Wouldn’t it be fun to be the gal who names the crayons, or the OPI nail polishes?

And then the sky did this.  And I wished night would never fall, and for patience during the many remaining months of winter, back home.

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