love affairs

I’ve had many love affairs in my life, some with men, and many others, with words.

presently I’m in love with uncompaghre.  un-com-pa-gre. what a beautiful word.

and even more beautiful, the uncompaghre wilderness. oh, my heart swells, takes over.

uncompaghre is said to mean “red water sitting,” “red lake,” or “where water makes rocks red,” and even “dirty water.” the uncompaghre wilderness spreads itself across the north-central region of the san juan mountains in southwest colorado. I first visited this area a dozen years ago, and perhaps left a piece of myself there for I have felt a pull to return ever since. (to be accurate, I haven’t stepped foot in the actual wilderness, have only been in the uncompaghre national forest, but my romantic, creative, writer’s soul is captured by the words uncompaghre wilderness. poetic license.)

this piece of myself has been calling to me for years, and it’s time to reconnect. I have a date, a reservation, and a flutter in my heart.

as I travel I note names, roll them around my tongue, sprout questions about their origins. who named this town-river-mountain, and what roots belong to that name? on my drive to oregon last month I crossed “thousand creeks” and instantly spun off into story after story, my own included, possibilities, dreams, reflections, wonderings. I made that name the title of an as-of-yet unwritten book.

in every journal I own, random words dot the pages, those I want to remember because they delight me, spur me on, send chills, provide a sense of awe: buckboard, chrysalis, targhee, caribou, amorphous, ephemeral…

and uncompaghre, where I left a bit of myself.

I’ll let you know if I find her there.