I am visiting my mother in Colorado this week. Leadville, at 10,000 feet, is nothing like the Ozarks. Dry snow falls like powdered sugar and blows like sifted flour across the desert terrain. But some days are actually warm. The sun is closer and burns brighter among the thin atmosphere.
The rugged peaks and separated by flat fields. Everything is a veiw. My mother lives at the base of a 14,000 foot peak. Tucked between the foothills with southern exposer, the house stays warm, even if the view is compromised a bit. But the wild here is more wild than the Ozark wilderness. We have bobcats she has mountain lions.
One morning while playing on the deck with my son, the dog trotted by with an entire deer leg. She held her head high and eyed us suspiciously. My son stared, bewildered. I said nothing. Only a few minutes later the dog returned, strutting with the leg, or maybe another leg. She beamed with pride. I watched my son's face. Finally, I explained to him that dogs, like wolves, eat deer. I don't know if he understood, but he ignored the dog after that and eventually she retreated to the edge of the deck where she gnawed her prized find.
- Roslyn Imrie
- I am a mother, a teacher, and a nature lover. I grew up on a mountain we called Owls' Knob in the Ozarks of Arkansas. The first seven years of my life were spent living in a log cabin, far from a store or streetlight, without electricity or running water and after twenty years of travel, I returned to the abondoned homestead. Now I live on a hill by a small lake and work at a public garden. These are stories about nature written from a women deeply influenced by place.