I'm probably being ungrateful. Two and a half decades of living here is probably not long enough to fully understand Colorado's natural rhythms deep down.
But damn! Is there anything in this state that isn't that pale, yellowish brown?
This weekend, hiking at Rocky Mountain Arsenal, whatever its called now that there isn't supposed to be any nerve gas left, it was like the Cat in the Hat had painted it all the same color the hour before we arrived, or some giant Labrador peed on the whole world.
When I look out my window at Cherry Creek, that color is everywhere. In the itty bitty patches of grass between my downtown parking space and my office - yellowish brown. It covers the mountains I see out of my office window that should be snow capped this time of year but mostly aren't.
One of my private resolutions over the last half of a year or so has been to bring more color into my life. I have bright, fresh flowers on my kitchen table, art on my walls at home and at work, a multi-colored heirloom family quilt that my mother made on my bed, and even appliances that can't be accurately depicted on a gray scale screen. But, this yellow stuff is not helping.
For my druthers, spring can't come soon enough.