180 Degrees

Folks often say there's nothing to see in southern Colorado, nothing but a sea of grass and empty skies. And you know, they're right…

… until you turn 180 degrees, and look back the way you came.

Look one way, into the teeth of a wind that dropped the temperature thirty degrees in fifteen minutes, and turned the air into a swirling miasma of 60-grit sandpaper that even the sun struggled to break through…

… and then turn around and look the other, and the vista spreads before you, a riot of color and the tang of sage in the air.

They say it's a harsh land, barely fit for human habitation.

I'm okay with that. Keeps the riff raff out.