Cotton

In Estes is was the yellowish pine pollen from the ponderosa pines that drove crazy each spring. In Fort Collins, it seems to be the cotton from the ‘cottonless’ cottonwood tree in our backyard. The entire neighborhood is covered with this fluffy, floating, white and swirling puffiness. It swirls and collects in piles in secret hiding places and everywhere in-between. Before we realized we had to keep the garage closed, we discovered a nest about the size of a basketball hiding between the boxes – yet unpacked.

When we drive around, since I forgot to close the car windows, it feels like we are inside a snow globe for the first several miles while the cotton is looking for a better hiding place before it gets sucked out the windows. It is stuck in our noses, our eyelashes and to the bottoms of our feet as thick as wool socks – or I guess cottons socks would be a better description. The neighbors say just wait a week and it will be gone. Waiting, waiting, trying to be patient, but the wind just keeps shaking up the snow globe again and again.

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