Fall at the Homestead

Fall has descended on the Reinke homestead. We feel it in the cool morning air, as we pull on our sweaters. The deciduous trees have made a wardrobe change, too, with their splendid yellow and orange leaves. After months of blending in with the conifers, they now triumphantly stand out from the crowd. 

Steaming mugs of coffee seem even more inviting these days. And soup? Well, even Campbell's will suffice when there's a chill in the air. 

I enjoy all the autumn signs here in Estes Park, but the one that stirs my heart the most is the Fall rut. There's nothing like it. To see our magnificent bull elk this time of year is breathtaking. 

Tuesday morning Dennis and I took a short drive and discovered this bull grazing in a field east of town. Dennis whistled at him, hoping he'd look up so I could get a good photo. Mr. Elk kept right on eating. Then Dennis honked the truck horn. That did it. The bull raised his head and began sniffing the air. Content that no opponent lurked in the area, he returned to his grazing. But not before I got this photo. (The dark areas on his body are wet spots from an apparent dip in a nearby lake.)

Smoke from the barn's chimney is another sign of Fall's arrival.

Workers installed the new wood-burning stove in the studio yesterday. The blue and white square behind the can is the top of an empty milk carton. Dennis says waxed cartons are great for kindling. I had no idea, but I'm glad since Estes doesn't accept these for recycling. (One of these days I'll do a blog on the bag trash program we employ at the homestead.)

I'm just as excited about the barn's rebirth as I am the cabin remodel. Dennis' paintings seem to belong here. . .

Studio Entrance South Wall

Studio Entrance North Wall

North Wall

North Wall

Southeast Corner

South Wall

Southwest Corner

West Wall

Is it just me -- or do these photos suggest "Fall"?

I think I need to add some pumpkins. Maybe some cornstalks and Indian corn, too.


We'll be ready for the Estes Park Art Studio Tour this Saturday.



"Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees." --

Faith Baldwin


Nancy