Kim's County Line

 

December 27, 2025 - Quivira National Wildlife Refuge - Little Salt Marsh

Once upon a time ... long, long ago, I was in charge of Kansas State Fair coverage for The Hutchinson News. I practically lived at the fairgrounds during its 10-day September run. In fact, I stayed one night in the 4-H Encampment Building for a story, also walking down to the livestock barn to visit with fair entrants who were snoozing overnight there with their cattle. So, I guess I did "live" at the fair that day and night.

The fair established an office for print journalists adjacent to the KWCH-TV studios. Of course, we print journalists were the ones behind the scenes. The TV anchors were schmoozing with their fans at the open air studio next door. 

I'd write my stories and send them electronically back to The News.  Then, I'd wander around the fairgrounds looking for other ideas. On one of those strolls through the Commercial Building, I had the idea of talking to the people who traveled from state fair to state fair, trying to sell knives, pots and pans, magazine subscriptions, windows or any number of consumer goods. 

 

A persistent encyclopedia "hawker" asked me an important question: "How will you answer your child's question, 'Why is the sky blue?' "

Besides being a newspaper reporter and editor, I was also a mom to a toddler at the time. So the question did make me think - then and throughout the years as both Jill and Brent asked their share of difficult questions.

Thankfully, I resisted the urge to pony up the big bucks for an enormous set of encyclopedias, which would have become an expensive set of paperweights and flower pressers in these days of push-button technology and information.  

Nowadays, when you type "Why are winter sunrises and sunsets more colorful?" you get an AI overview that condenses the answer:

Winter sunrises and sunsets are so colorful because the sun is lower in the sky, light travels through more of the atmosphere, scattering blues and leaving reds/oranges, and the air is often cleaner, drier and contains fewer particles (like humidity and haze) that would normally mute colors, allowing longer wavelengths to shine through move vividly. Cooler, drier air, combined with specific clouds, enhances these vibrant displays. 

And, if that's not enough to satisfy your curiosity, there are plenty of other articles to explore - all with a simple click on the links. 

No matter the science behind the colorful sky, there have been plenty of opportunities to enjoy the unique masterpieces of the Kansas sky in winter - even on unseasonably warm December nights like we found at Quivira on December 27. 

 

It's also a tradition for me to take a photo of the final sunset of a year. The photos below were from New Year's Eve 2025:

December 31, 2025

 I do the same for the first sunrise of a new year. 

January 1, 2026

But it doesn't have to be New Year's Eve or New Year's Day for me to take the short drive away from my tree-lined farmstead to take in the beauty. 

January 7, 2026, sunrise, back at the sunrise tree

January 7, 2026

January 7, 2026

January 7, 2026

Every day and every sky is different and another opportunity to glory in God's masterpieces - His bookends to the day. 

Sunset, January 5, 2026

And for that, I am thankful - no matter the reasons why. 

Sunset, January 5, 2026

 

 

Sunrise, December 3, 2025

The wives were one of the topics during "the guys" meet and greet for coffee last week. Once a week, Randy meets with several buddies for breakfast at Joan's Cafe in Stafford. Randy knows that I would prefer not to be the subject of weekly topics covered by this band of buddies. Stick to the weather, guys!

He's a smart man, so he usually doesn't share when I - or the other wives - become conversation topics. I'm not naive enough to think it never happens. And I suppose I precipitated his revelation. I was making yet another snack mix for our Christmas celebrations and holiday gifts from the kitchen, and I started thinking about other people I "should" add to the list.

If I give to this person at church, shouldn't I give to that one, too? And how about her? Or him?

That's when Randy broke the covenant of silence and said, "We talked about this at breakfast this week. About how the wives want to make things perfect and make everyone happy at Christmas."

He then added the guys' perspective, with several of them chiming in that "In their day, you just had to be happy with what you got" ... so why do the wives think it should be different now? Yes, guys. And you had to walk three miles - uphill - in a snowstorm to get to school, too, right? 

I suppose that says more about the difference between guys and gals than "complaining" about their wives' propensity to try and be all things to all people. And it probably speaks to their oblivion about all their moms or grandmas were doing to make Christmas special ... yes, even back in the day. 

But as for my answer to their question? I plead the Fifth.

OK, really, I plead guilty. Every year, as Christmas approaches, I struggle with the anxiety of things needing to be perfect and wanting to be all things to all people. If I'm honest, I struggle with that feeling most of the time. 

I see all my imperfections. And I think, "If I just try really hard to make everyone happy, maybe they'll overlook this, that or the other that I find lacking in myself."

It never works because "other people" aren't the problem. The problem is me, myself and I. I'm the one who puts undue pressure on myself. 

I can sing songs about making room for the Christ Child. I can sing it. But unless I apply it, it probably doesn't do a lot of good. 

A Facebook memory came up from a K-State performance of "A Christmas Carol." In that blog post from 2014, I posted the words to one of the songs from the show:

So, "kindness by human kindness," it will take all of us to change.

Sunrise, December 3, 2025

It would probably do me more good to go outside to experience even more of God's masterpieces at sunrise and sunset. It would likely be more productive than adding another snack mix - or some other self-imposed task - to my schedule. 

Sunset, December 17, 2025

Prayer for Reflection

God of peace, hope, joy, and love, in our Christmas preparations, may we never lose sight of the meaning of the season. Help us ready our hearts to receive your Son and show His light to all. Together we pray. Amen.

God Bless Us Everyone. 

 

This was taken outside the restaurant while we waited for our table.

 Randy had made reservations in advance at the Metate Room. 

 

We knew it would likely be our most expensive meal on the trip, but it was delicious. 

 

We had the blue corn tortillas and prickly pear margaritas for our appetizer. 

 

I chose the Three Sisters Soup, a harvest soup made with corn, squash, and beans, a Native American staple. I wanted something native to the area. 

My entree was the salmon.

I set the alarm so that we could witness sunrise the next day. 

A traveler in 1892 described a trail on the ridge as the Crinkly Edge Trail. In 1911, the trail became the Knife Edge Road, a new section of the main park road. Two years later, the park built a bypass through Morefield and Prater Canyons. When the first automobile trip was made in 1914, vehicles used the bypass and the Knife Edge Road was soon closed. 

We made the trek on Park Point Trail. The sign said it was a "steep, but short trail." It didn't seem so short. But we made it to Park Point, the highest point in Mesa Verde at 8,572 feet. On a clear day, four states are supposed to be visible from the point - Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah. There was also a fire tower there, which is usually staffed during the summer season to watch out for fires. 

Will Randy ever get his cliff dwellings tour? We'll just have to see. Still, we enjoyed our overnight stay in Mesa Verde.