Mountain High

“We made it,” Ron says, leaning over to give me a kiss. “Welcome to Colorado.”

I roll down the window of our rental car and stick my head out the window.

“I swear the sky is bigger here,” I say.

Ron starts up the engine and begins backing out of the airport parking lot.

“The grass is greener and the sun brighter,” I add as we pass tall green pines and pristine lakes. Then I take in a deep, satisfying breath. “And the mountain air is so much fresher.”

Ron pats the top of my head. “And the people nuttier,” he adds.