The Pikes Peak Region
by Arielle Mari '12
Colorado is unlike anything I've ever seen. When I first set foot here, I thought I was in the wrong place.
It was not the lush greenery I knew so well from growing up in the South. Rugged, red earth where I expected grass. A city, sprawling and glittering in the last rays of sun, where I expected hills and trees. And then, in the distance: mountains.
Exploding up and up and up out of the ground, stark against the dusky, cloudless blue sky. They were even more majestic as the sun set, throwing them into stark silhouettes. "And those are just the foothills," my father pointed out. I couldn't even respond. I just stared open-mouthed at everything before me. This can't be real, I thought. It was.
Now it's been three years and I've never looked back. Living in this kind of environment is addicting—it invites you to breathe deeply, believe wholeheartedly, walk a little slower, and live a little dangerously. It's a rush, and I can't get enough. I hope you feel the same way.