Colorado Nature Narratives

Ten months ago in one of my first blogs, I used a quote from my favorite nature writer Ann Zwinger. The year 2010 marked the 40th anniversary of her classic natural history book, Beyond the Aspen Grove, still my favorite. I chose my nature blog’s tagline “always something new to discover” from Ann’s words:

Beginning to know these mountain acres has been to discover a puzzle with a million pieces already set out on a table. Occasionally a few pieces fit together and we gain another awareness of the land’s total pattern of existence, of its intricate interdependencies, enhanced by knowing that the puzzle will never be completed. There will always be something new to discover… (From Chapter 1, Beyond the Aspen Grove)

As I write today, a snowstorm has settled over Colorado Springs and every shape outside my window is now etched in white. With 2010 drawing to a close, I am reflecting on the turning seasons of this year and thought I’d share a few of my favorite Colorado discoveries with you, with homage to Ann Zwinger.

Sandhill Cranes and Sunset, Sangre de Cristo Mountains, late winter

Northern Flicker, late winter

Bobcat with two of her four kittens, late spring

Alpine Tundra Wildflowers: Alpine Forget-Me-Nots and Dwarf Clover on the west slope of Pikes Peak, mid-summer

Golden aspen leaves paint the mountainsides in autumn

Snow-covered Backyard with pond, aspen trees and tall stalks of teasel, early winter

Happy New Year!

Photo Credits: Cranes, Bobcats, Wildflowers, Aspen and Pond by Melissa Walker; Flicker by Les Goss

Morning rays of sunlight filter through our backyard aspen trees and the woodbine vine that decorates my window. The backlit red and gold leaves of the woodbine transform the window into stained glass. The woodbine (also called Virginia creeper) is at the peak of its autumn glory.

Autumn Window View

The brilliant fall colors lure me outside for a short walk. The air is brisk and I zip up my jacket. Almost everywhere I look, garlands of red woodbine encircle the trees and shrubs of the neighborhood.

During this year’s warm summer, the sun-seeking woodbine vine used our house as a trellis and quickly grew toward the light. The vine’s tendrils attached to vertical walls and window glass and soon the east side of our house looked like an arbor, covered with green leaves and tiny green berries. One afternoon I discovered a tenacious vine that had crept toward the south side of the house and had clasped our windchime with its tendrils. I quickly released the “captured” chime.

Red Garlands of Woodbine

Although woodbine isn’t native to Colorado, it has adapted well to the forested and irrigated urban landscapes of the Front Range. Many native birds now use woodbine for food and shelter. Robins build nests in the vine’s leafy bower and Northern Flicker woodpeckers devour the ripe blue berries.

Returning home from my autumn walk with the day now warming up, I open the vine-covered window. I hear the staccato drums of the Coronado High School Marching Band practicing on the football field about a half-mile away. Now my window sounds like autumn, too.

Ripe blue berries

Photo Credits: All three photos by Melissa Walker

And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days…

Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten…

by poet James Russell Lowell (1819 – 1891)

Wild Iris (by Winston Walker)

Northern Flicker tends nest in Cottonwood Tree

Cottonwood seeds blowing in the wind

When I was growing up in Louisiana, I assumed that birds sang all year round. The sounds of cooing Mourning Doves and raucous Blue Jays are inseparable from my childhood memories. Then, when I was in my twenties and began birding with the Audubon Society, I observed the unsettling fact that most birds only sing for about three months. April, May and June – the height of the breeding season – is the time to listen to the amazing variety of birdsongs. By the second week of July, most of the birds are silent. The “dawn chorus” has disbanded until another spring.

This year, 2010, I am writing down the date that I first hear the song of each bird species.
As spring progresses and migratory birds make their way to Colorado, I will listen for many more birds to add to my birdsong list.

Several of the year-round birds in my westside Colorado Springs neighborhood began “practicing” a few notes of their songs in January, February and March. I heard a Northern Flicker make its first “wicka-wicka-wicka” call on January 26. Three weeks later on February 16, a House Finch sang part of its melody. On March 16, I heard the repeated trilling “tow, tow, tow, heeee” of a Spotted Towhee and also the plaintive two-note whistle of a Black-capped Chickadee. Just two nights ago on March 22, I was serenaded at twilight by several American Robins, each singing from a different area of the neighborhood. Their songs were like a lullaby at 7:40 pm, then each bird faded from the chorus as twilight gave way to nightfall. Continue Reading »

I remember the first time I heard the wild call of a Northern Flicker. The sound was so loud and raucous, I thought an exotic bird had escaped from the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. Upon finding the bird and studying it with my binoculars, I observed a large woodpecker with a Dalmatian-like pattern of black spots on its white breast, a black crescent under its neck and bright orange tail feathers. With such distinct colors and markings, it was easy to identify the bird as a Northern Flicker.

Northern Flicker photo by Les Goss

Even though the Flicker’s call -”wicka-wicka-wicka” – is its Spring territorial call, I almost always hear a Flicker sing a few “wicka” notes during late January. This year, I heard a Flicker on January 26, last year on January 30. So even with a light snow in Colorado Springs, the Flicker’s call reminds me that the Spring Equinox is only seven weeks away. Most of the country looks to Punxsutawney Phil for a sign of spring, but in Colorado, we listen for the Flicker.