2020, the lost year

We sold San Diego and moved to Littleton right smack as coronavirus broke out across the land. It was a move planned well before the pandemic but ended up happening at exactly the same moment. Our life got small and quiet, as it did for many people. We had the beauty of nature and the wonder of our little chickens to sustain us.


Winter at Sterne Park begins

February on the Lee Gulch trail

A warm winter day

March. Watching out for the muskrat on “the duck pond.”

April. Bear Creek.

May. Baby blue-tongued skinks are born. 13 of them!

June. Our sign reads, “Yes! to more Black neighbors.”

August. The future backyard is a shambles.

Setting up the Omlet coop.

Just big enough for a human.

September. Planting the first of the maples.

Evelyn, the chickie.

October. The yellowwood are ablaze.

October. The remodel begins.

Warmish fall days with the growing chickens.

November. First frost at Sterne Pond.

November walk through Littleton Cemetery. 

Running the downstairs fire while banished from upstairs.

November break in the cold weather.

Matthew at Walter Street in SF as I clear it out.

One last dusk on the patio at Walter St. A final, wistful goodbye to 28 years.

December days.

A hike up Waterton Canyon.

Colorado Rocky Mountain winter sun.

The new chicken run in the December snow.

A New Years Eve chocolate cake to send off the year.