Your Ideas

12:46pm

Mon February 3, 2014
2014 Winter Olympics from the Inside

Ready to Go - Heading to Sochi

Credit Ruthie Brown

EDITOR’S NOTE: We are very excited to share the travels of Simi Hamilton’s family to the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia. Over the next few weeks we’ll be sharing dispatches from Ruthie Brown and family as they give you a first-hand, “behind-the-scenes” look at the Olympics.

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4:39pm

Wed January 29, 2014
Aspen Poets' Society

Poem: Looking for Robert Frost

Jose Alcantara
Credit Jose Alcantara

The light in the desert comes on slowly

as though we need to prepare for it

or as though it is a gift given grudgingly.

At other times the edge of the world

begins in a blaze brighter than anything

we deserve. Last night I dreamt my father died

as we tried to find where Robert Frost wrote.

We were headed to a beach shack

on the other side of a concrete canal

when he jumped, trying to swim beyond

the surge that flowed toward land

as though Frost wrote with the power

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9:42am

Tue January 14, 2014
Opinion/Editorial

Of Fire Tents and Hut Trips

Credit Will Roush

It could be an overly nuanced distinction to folks who don’t live in the mountains and spend much time in the woods, but I’ll make the case anyway: winter camping and hut trips are two very different experiences. One requires a tolerance for cold and a degree of suffering most people would prefer to pass up; the other involves cozy accommodations, light packs and comfy mattresses. Both usually include spectacular winter scenery and close friends.

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11:14am

Wed January 8, 2014
Opinion/Editorial

Who and What To Believe?

I spend a lot of time trying to keep myself informed about current political affairs, but it often seems to be a futile effort.  The same subject can be reported with wildly divergent information in competing publications.  What is the poor reader to do?  And how is the public to make any sense of this?

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6:12am

Sun December 29, 2013
Aspen Poets' Society

Poem: My Mother's Things

Valerie Haugen
Credit Valerie Haugen

My mother's things...

in the very last of the death boxes:

umpteen beautiful crystal bottles filled

with exotic perfumes from foreign lands,

pounds of barbaric jewelry, ancient bones and stones.

A jug full of bells.

A jug full of bells...

some of them tongueless, voiceless.

Poetry...even a book of poetry- the poet being an old, dead lover

of my mother Wild Honey.

The belt she made at camp when she was fourteen.

My second grade report card...

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