Coming March 8

We're in a winter drought here on the Front Range and that means gorgeous dried grasses against a stark, seamless blue sky. Purple mountains shoot up like exclamation marks. All the shades and textures of dirt can be found and admired.

My dreams consist of wild horses and clouds, rain storms and renewal, the bright green sprouts of prairie grass poking through the underbrush.

It's the Year of the Fire Horse, which seems appropriate given all the brush fires happening in my county, in my heart and in my head. May these little bottles of color be magical balm to soothe you and protect your spirit.