Telluride: Seventh and Last Day

It’s drizzling, now, as I’m inside my favorite breakfast place, here in Telluride. The van’s packed, I’ll make one more sweep through the hotel room before turning in my room key (Yes. An actual key; not one of those plastic card critters!), and then it’s hop into the van and head home. I think the town’s causing this rain in hopes I’ll wait for the weather to clear, thereby staying longer, giving Telluride still more time to grab a firmer hold on me. I appreciate the compliment and the love. (Just now, a woman apologized to me for being, “from out of town.” “We’re all from out of town,” I replied. Then, even a few of the locals have thought I was local, too.)

Yesterday was intentionally for letting things settle. Still more of that will happen, en route back to Salida. After all, I won’t truly know what I “got” here until I’m back in my “real” world.

I’ve frequently called and thought of myself as invisible, as hidden in the shadows. I think it’s more that I blend in, as opposed to vanish. As I mentioned earlier, it’s not only the other out-of-towners who’ve thought I lived here; and this hasn’t only happened in Telluride. It’s from this place, this included among the natives, that I’m the watcher of people that I am. I’m witnessing what’s going on around me, not what’s happening in front of me. Perhaps this blending in is also the reason people seem quick to include me among their ranks.

(Aye… Seems I’m still sorting stuff out. Perhaps this is yet another incident when there’s no figuring—just rolling with it and moving on.)

This Telluride. This time here. I am so hugely grateful for each, both. I’ll persist with my visits.

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