Glove Gloom

Recently, while strolling down Lincoln Avenue, a solitary glove caught my eye.  It got me thinking about life as a solitary piece of apparel. 

Life in a ski town is never solitary, singular or lonely.  Tourism makes sure you never feel abandoned.

But... for ski gloves, mittens, skis, ski poles, water bottles and chap stick; well that's another story all by itself.  No where that I can recall have I ever bore witness to so many forsaken items found cast off; on the side of the road, sidewalks, snowbanks or any place for that matter. "Locals" find these items: We place them on counter tops at the post office, lost & found at the ski area or grocery store entrances,  even as a hand for a snowman, in hopes that their owners will retrace their steps and be reunited.  We may even find your lonely ski pole and next thing you know, it's a perfect walking cane for the abundance of hiking trails in Routt County, Colorado.

A Sunday afternoon stroll, and my wife pointed out yet another despondent glove, cold and alone in a snow bank,  This time I had my camera and was able to capture an image of a somewhat expensive looking chap,  discarded by its' owner.  No left glove to keep him company.  Are there no right handed glove wearers?

"...It's like I told you
Only the lonely can play

So hold on here we go
Hold on to nothin' we know
I feel so lonely way up here..."  Roy Orbison, Only The Lonely