Don’t Let Anyone Pull the Vail (I mean Wool) Over Your Eyes

       Every week I put a different, semi-famous quote on my cell phone voicemail; and this last week…it was…“If you do not go up into the mountains this weekend, you are crazy.”

Ok, yes, I made it up…but why?  It is peak week for the aspens turning, for the brilliance of yellow, orange and red colors mixed all through the pines and, at times, covering entire mountainsides that appear to be on fire, and are exploding with incredible fall colors—the dance of another autumn; the hand of Mother Nature dazzling us mere mortals who are akin and in harmony with this mosaic spectacle of another pure and amazing visual celebration.

            So, I decided to drive up to Vail, not my favorite place, as I love more of the rugged areas, less touristy and quieter roads and back- country-kind-of-forgotten-places, better said: The less traveled roads off the GPS trails.

            But, since I hadn’t been to Vail in such a longtime, and it was about as far from Denver as my preferred little town snuck in at 10,000 feet, “Leadville”…we took off for the adventure. 

And we approached the high pass near Vail and it was covered with nothing but evergreen, and then dropped into Vail; it was alarmingly beautiful…the aspen again took over and covered entire mountainsides just above the tourist-filled walkways of Vail.

            It was easier to hear foreign languages than English walking along these quaint cobblestone streets.  The opulence was not only apparent but rained down everywhere.  It was like gold coins thrown into the winds of perchance and happenstance along the soothing cool sunshine at about 65 degrees on this late September Saturday.

            The appearance of high wealth, condos the price of (perhaps) small countries, and houses on the hills larger than cul de sacs in a neighborhood near you…were amazing and wonder-filled. 

All I could think of was: “What magnificent things all these people must’ve done to acquire such wealth, to buy these properties, to start these fine businesses?” There were singles hung made of platinum dreams and visions of attracting the wealthy from all corners of this globe to shop, drink and eat and bask in such paralleling beauty?

            Then it dawned on me that though I believed I belonged on the back roads and secret little places that only the locals know about, that I know about after being part of five generations of Coloradoans, I realized that I also belonged in the richness and wealth and high society places that are famous all over the world—and I too belonged in the part of Colorado I normally avoided…and why?

            Why? That may be the million dollar question.  It may be that such extreme wealth has been a reflection of my own inner self doubt that I am not worthy, that these highfalutin people are taking the beauty away from our beautiful state and littering it with a kind of manmade, not as valuable kind of arrogance: Handmade rock waterfalls, cobblestoned parkways, heated streets.

But now that I went back to tourist city USA, to this movie stardom haven, I can see how this wealth-kind-of-beauty compliments high achievement…a celebrity reality that is available to all of us who will dream alongside of the greatness of mind, the reality that…“You too, me too, all of us can actualize mirth and delight and extreme money in the bank,” because it really is but a thought away, a convincing dream that seeps into your bones and lives there near the snowcapped mountains serving caviar and $50 dollar glasses of wine on the verandas as the wind chimes enlighten the blue-sky day. 

You and me and everyone with the heart to accept it, to dream it, deserves the right to drive through the exploding colors in the Colorado mountains and then sit with the opulence available only to a vivid imagination not afraid to believe. “Dream as big as you believe you can dream.” WOW!