That was not my intention. We planned a trip from Florida to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado for one of my freelance writing projects, and originally scheduled a day in Denver (at 5,280 feet in elevation) to acclimate. Frontier Airlines had a different idea. I heard alternatively that our plane had a mechanical issue, that weather in the Midwest grounded the flight, and that the crew went on strike. Regardless, the airline cancelled our original flight.
The sun made us lazy, and after following Brian as he made his way upstream I found a wider expanse of sand and gravel, promptly plopping down on a pair of flip flops I had brought in my backpack as a make-shift seat. After identifying the northern harrier hawk over my head, and the savannas sparrows and red-winged blackbirds perched precariously on reeds across the water, I took out my knitting project. I didn’t have to worry about losing Brian; in the valley I could see for miles in both directions.
