It is a truth universally acknowledged that Garden of the Gods is one of the main attractions in Colorado Springs. Consequently, at certain times throughout the year, it tends to be overrun. I avoid weekends completely and when I venture there during the summer, the season with the highest number of visitors and the worst heat, only do so around dawn in order to escape both. When a friend recently expressed interest in exploring the site with me, we were pleasantly surprised not to be overwhelmed by crowds. It helped that we set out at 7:30 in the morning, that the day was overcast and cool, and that we sidestepped what is called the Central Garden, where a majority of guests goes to gain an impression of this imposing and iconic landmark. Instead, we circumnavigated the park on trails that wind around its periphery.
I’m not at all dissing seeing the locale’s magnificent array of sandstone on a clear day and encourage you to click here for a few sunlit images and some historical information in my first-ever blog post about Garden of the Gods dated September 15, 2016 (where oh where does time fly?). This is particularly true when solar rays play on fresh snow, which I celebrated in another post that shows the Garden with a sprinkling of white-on-red.
A cloud cover lends a special aura to the scenery in its own right. When the sky is clear, one’s gaze is inevitably directed to Pikes Peak, looming large directly west of the park. On the early June day of our trek, the firmament, save a few brief bursts of sunshine at the start, was overcast and our local fourteener had wrapped its head with a misty scarf. Our eyes, therefore, were drawn to structures closer at hand, such as the rosy rocks and the complementary green trees and shrubs.
To enlarge a photo, click on it. To read its caption, hover the cursor over it.
The fact of the “missing peak” was driven home as we peered through the window at the “Siamese Twins,” one of several formations which inspired earlier visitors to flights of naming fancy. As a picture is worth a thousand words, I added an older image of the window for comparison, as it illustrates the unobstructed view (as does the blog’s header photo, but it will eventually be substituted with another scene.)
Please allow me to indulge in some self-serving musings, trite as they might be. During a time of much turmoil, many of us tell ourselves stories to cope with reality. I’m using the mountain’s transitory invisibleness as an analogy: Even though one’s horizon may be beclouded temporarily, the dark and doomy clouds will dissipate in due course and sunny skies will once again return. At least I hope so.