I went to a concert this week. A full-blown, internationally-recognized touring artist at one of the world’s most amazing venues. And I cried. Nay, sobbed. When Grace Potter began singing “Nothing But The Water” a capella on the sparsely equipped stage at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, I felt . . . well, I felt a lot of things. I felt blessed, fulfilled, grateful, lifted. When I happened upon the concert listing while searching for any live music in the Winter Park, Colorado, area, earlier in the week, I was truly taken aback that there was such a big show scheduled for the middle of the week. My husband, sister, and brother-in-law and I were scheduled to attend a different concert this past weekend* at Red Rocks — Big Head Todd And The Monsters — but my aunt Tommie died, and we cancelled those plans in order to be with family and attend her funeral.

*(More on this later).

Mike (my aforementioned husband) said, “Let’s get tickets!” We had been very excited to see the BHT show at Red Rocks because in the shadow of those giant red wonders of nature, we said the vows that joined us as husband and wife back in November 2020, the year nothing was going right. So, we got concert tickets — the venue was still not operating at full capacity, and there were still tickets remaining. The day of the show, I was honored for Mike to take me on one of his favorite hikes, all around Monarch Lake in the Arapaho Basin. What is it about doing something that someone you love loves together with them? I was enchanted . . . he knew that trail like a mother knows her child.

We had already hiked well over 6 miles before we arrived at Red Rocks that night, but somehow, being enveloped in the natural beauty of those rocks — and energized by the long-lost opportunity to sit among other music lovers and hear a gifted musician — instilled in us both a surprising drive to climb even higher. (If you don’t know Red Rocks, it’s a beautiful amphitheatre gracefully nestled in between unimaginably huge monolithic sandstone formations, and was at one time considered one of the Seven Wonders of the World – http://www.redrocksonline.com).

Back to the sense of overwhelm that I felt when she started singing. I knew Grace was an amazing vocalist, but I did not know she was a multi-instrumentalist. I was surprised when we arrived to see a very simple stage setup. The stage itself is enormous, but there was only one vocal mic, a Rhodes electric piano (I’m pretty sure, anyway), and a couple each of acoustic and electric guitars. I was briefly disappointed that it did not appear to be a full band show, but I got over it once she began performing. I was by no means a “deep cut” fan of hers, but I did know that based on the music of hers that I was familiar with, she is a phenomenal talent.

I think I just was not prepared for the realization of how much I have missed being in the same airspace with someone who embodies music like she does. More than many of you, I have been able to go out and hear some live music in the past 18 months — mostly amazing singer/songwriters, who are my heart. But I hadn’t been to a big ol’ thousands-of-people event in a very long time. There’s just something about it. You may not know a single other soul at a show like that, but you know you have something in common with every soul present. That is a startlingly unique experience. And I like it. Well, love it.

But why the crying? Because I was moved. By the talent, the voice, the gumption. I was moved by the magnificent surroundings. By the love of my husband, who is moved by my being moved. I was not alone. I noticed others who were crying . . . maybe for different reasons. Maybe for the same. I won’t ever know. Because I don’t know those people. But we had a common and collective experience that night, and for that, I am grateful.

Colorado and its blinding beauty do the same for me. Sure, the altitude takes my breath a little bit, but there have been multiple occasions where just taking in this version of nature causes me to gasp. Just a little. And then, I cry. It overwhelms my senses. And brings me back to them.

And that was worth the trip.

Go do something you love with someone you love. Or something they love alongside them. It is special. And infectious. In a good way.