The air was warm and sweet back in Boulder. You could taste waffle cones from the Ben and Jerry's down Pearl Street, the garlic knots from Pasta Jay's and the pine trees that dotted along here and there throughout the cute, comfy neighborhood. We passed by babies in strollers, couples sharing ice cream, families at dinner and a whole crowd of people watching a grey-haired man balance on twelve stacked table chairs. Our skin glowed golden when the sun set at just the right moment. The glass wind chimes glittered like magic. Everything in that moment was sweet, warm, and sparkling. We walked off our tacos and strawberry spritzers before biking back home, treating ourselves to chocolate chip oatmeal cookie dough.

Boulder was filled with uncontrollable laughs walking up and tubing down the river. It seemed like everybody was there trying to escape the intense summer heat. Sinking your body into the water sent a chill up your spine, it felt so good. The water was so clear, I could see my toes wiggling beneath the soil and pebbles. The sunlight danced through the swaying of tree branches, the air still smelling so good. I felt like a pinball bouncing back and forth. While we waited for the rest of our friends to catch up, the current would spin our watermelon floaties in circles. After spending hours at the river, floating down, being woken up each time we stepped into the clear water, we returned home, indulging ourselves in whatever snacks left in the cupboard before dinner.

If we weren't climbing the Flatirons, or summiting a 14er, or exploring the wonders of Rocky Mountains National Park, our breaks were spent munching on sandwiches under the trees, or floating on yellow pool chairs in the buffalo-shaped pool, and even practicing belly flops and dives on the diving board while it poured outside. The flatirons became out friends, always right next to us, never too far away. At night, we spent our time laying in front of two or three fans on full blast because it was so hot out, or stuffing our faces with Boulder Baked cookies while playing a mean game of Connect Four. You always won.

Boulder was filled with the absolute best memories. I fell in love with the Flat Irons, what a great friend they were. Being able to escape and immerse yourself into a field of wildflowers, or climb up mountains, watching the colors of light dance atop the Rocky Mountain Range, and fade across the sky, is absolutely breathtaking. I have never fallen in love with a place so much.

Oh how I wish I was back in Boulder.