I used to live in Costa Rica where the incomparable flora and fauna, the sunsets and waterfalls, birds, butterflies and moths gave proof every day to artistic vision well beyond anything Spielberg could sketch in animation or a sci-fi movie. Every black-spotted red frog, iridescent butterfly, pair of scarlet macaws; the colorful heliconia, orchids and bromeliads grew wild outside my windows, iguanas up the palm trees and even the tolomuco and tepezcuinte that snuck in at night for food reassured me of a marvelous sense of ineffable design.

Growing up in Florida I seem to be one among a small group here who actually likes humid weather. I've been in Valley for nearly 15 years now, plus a brief stint in the 80's before signing on with a Western Slope candidate for US Congress. When I returned to Basalt from Central America in 2000 I didn't expect Colorado to compare with the diversity and magnificence of the tropics. Yet every day since then, I've woken to such incredible majesty I feel the same sense of the miraculous.

For one thing I live up the Frying Pan Road under the Seven Castles, the third one to be exact just under a little-known waterfall at the end of a hidden creek trail amid a mountainous chasm. I drive 10 minutes into work along a winding river road. Every local business member in our 400+ and-growing Chamber of Commerce is within five to 10 minutes of the red Caboose office. No lengthy (and, speaking of Costa Rica, perilous!) commutes to work, shopping, grocery stores or entertainment. Whether you live out as I do and travel in, or dwell around town and journey out for recreation, here we have a microcosm of all we might need at an easy, care-free distance.

Last week, to celebrate one month "on the job", I hiked out beyond Ruedi Reservoir on a trail that wowed me every step of the way. The mushrooms alone were a thing of wonder in their color, variety and peculiarity. Michael Kinsley, a good friend from the 80's and spokesperson for the new Rocky Mountain Institute "deep green" building soon to break ground on Two Rivers Road, was flat-out on the ground photographing, so I followed suit. Visit the Chamber Facebook Page for some of my amateur shots. And though I'm sworn to locational secrecy, I will also tell you of the magnificent conclave of humongous rocks with water gushing over and through so much like a mini-Angel Falls I still get chills.

On the way home Friday night a fox ran across the road, stopping to look as I drove by, and the next morning the Gold Medal Frying Pan river was dotted with fisherman elegantly casting their flies. It might not be appealing to all of you, but yesterday I came across a bizarrely shaped, crab-like orange spider to rival any that I saw in Costa Rica. Have a look on the Facebook Page and try to identify it (there's a prize for the first correct posted answer).