Big gratitude list today! I made this small postcard as a thank you to a dear CA friend who sent me little hand-made cleats so I can put up a shelf in the bathroom. They are works of art in themselves and I am humbled and thankful for his talent and generosity.

I’m grateful for Sarah, the park ranger I volunteered with yesterday who let me pick her brain on a variety of topics. She educated me about the two beavers who have returned to RMNP thanks to a restoration project that restricts elk and moose from over-grazing, making it possible for beavers to return to a spot on the CO river where the willows they need are protected. For winter, they create a grid of intertwining willow branches, and the weight of this brilliant creation sinks to the river bottom, under the ice. The critters then pull out one branch at a time for meals. I will definitely go see if I can find it (I hear it is still visible). Snowshoes might be necessary.

After my volunteer duties yesterday (so thrilled to be back with the team!) I took a short walk and saw a large herd of elk on the hillside. Plenty of bugling. Magnificent. The calves seem to make a kind of squeaky sound (another question for the ranger).

Yesterday I bought a poop and track guide, Scats and Tracks of the Rocky Mountains. I’ll have it with me as the snow shows all kinds of evidence of little footprints and I’m excited to try and ID them. One ranger said she was startled one year to see how many mountain lion tracks were in the snow. They are everywhere. And almost never seen — except there was a story in the local newspaper about a group of five women who were mountain biking and one of the women was taken down by a mountain lion. The other women attacked the big cat, using a bicycle to pin it down until help came. Coloradans are tough.

I could go on and bore you to death but let me just add one more thing. The five-year anniversary of my first sister’s death is in two days. Kay often occupies my thoughts, as do my other two siblings who died. I am grateful she fought back the breast cancer and succeeded in keeping it at bay for 20 years, which meant she met and adored her grandchildren, took many trips, enjoyed her marriage, and finally, when the cancer took her out, I am thankful she no longer is in pain. Rest well, dear Kay. I feel you with me sometimes and I am glad. I love you.

I saw this on Instagram about losing a loved one: You may not have gotten to spend the rest of your life with them. But they got to spend the rest of their life with you.

4″ x 6″ watercolor, ink, pencil, acrylic on paper