It's mid-August, but you can already feel a change in the air. It's not full summer any more...it's not fall either...it's somewhere in between. The days are warm and sunny. The bluebird blue skies are clear and clean. There is a whisper on the breeze. You have to listen for it very carefully, but deep down the whisper gives a hint of what is to come. It's a warm, drying breeze. It takes the green from the leaves. It takes the color from the wildflowers. Summer in the high country is sweet, beautiful, and elusive.
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