Colorado Nature Narratives

With only three days left of 2011, I decided to look back through my Nature Narrative postings. The articles and photos depict many treasures of nature that were discovered throughout the year. I hope you will enjoy this sampler from 2011′s Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall, and I wish you a Happy New Year filled with nature’s treasures.

Winter

On this frigid February 1st, the outdoor thermometer reads -9 degrees F. The backyard pond is frozen except for a three-foot circle of open water surrounding our circular pond heater. Overnight, a mix of light snow and sleet sprinkled the icy pond, creating a surface like frosted glass.

The smooth snow covering the front and backyard remains untracked all day. The usually active mammals – rabbits, squirrels, fox, deer and occasional bobcats – are nowhere to be seen. The only wildlife visible on this below zero day are birds, their feathers fluffed to trap extra air for insulation.

Five American Robins fly to the pond in late morning, gathering around the small circle of water. After dipping their beaks into the water, they tilt their heads back to swallow. Soon, they are joined by two Cedar Waxwings, elegant winter visitors to our neighborhood. I note their sleek, gray feathers and back-swept crest. The Waxwings look like they are wearing a black mask and a cape hemmed in red, black and yellow threads.

This brief glimpse of winter’s Cedar Waxwings reminds me of Henry David Thoreau’s quote, “Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each.”

Spring

Late this afternoon I took a short walk through our neighborhood park. Except for the sound of the brisk March wind, it was very quiet. As I headed south into the stiff breeze, I zipped up my hooded jacket and cinched the hood tighter. I noted very little bird activity. Perhaps they had sought shelter from the wind, just as I had for most of the day.

When I turned northward, with the wind at my back, I pushed back my hood just in time to catch sight of a majestic bird that seemed to revel in the wind. A Red-tailed Hawk was soaring about 200 yards above me. With its wingtips outstretched, it faced directly into the rushing wind, buoyed by the moving air with no need to flap its wings. The motionless hawk seemed suspended from the blue sky by an invisible thread. Then, with a slight turn, it became an untethered kite and flew out of sight.

Summer

On June 7^th, I took a short trip to Rocky Mountain National Park to see some of my favorite mountains sparkling white, wearing this year’s unusually high snowpack. Trail Ridge Road finally opened on June 6^th, its latest opening in 20 years, with 30-foot snow drifts covering parts of the alpine highway.

Long’s Peak at 14,259 feet towered over the Estes Park Valley and the blue jewel of Lily Lake. Every summer, I take a wildflower hike on the lake’s circular trail. This early in June, I was treated to a return to Spring. Light lavender Pasque flowers that bloomed in April in Colorado Springs were in full bloom on the west side of the lake. Scattered beneath the Ponderosa Pine trees was the largest natural garden of Pasque flowers I’d ever seen.

Long's Peak, June 7, 2011

The higher elevation of Estes Park, cooler temperatures and ample precipitation provided the perfect environment for these wildflowers to bloom a few weeks later than in the foothills. That’s one of the extra benefits of living in Colorado. You can follow Spring up the mountainsides.

Pasque Flowers at Lily Lake

Pasque Flower Close-up

Lily Lake and the Mummy Range

Photo Credits: all three photos by Nature Narratives author Melissa Walker

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

Suddenly, it’s autumn.

The currant, aspen and sumac leaves have turned shades of gold and red, and most of the late-blooming wildflowers are hues of purple and yellow. But to me, the color blue best captures the feelings of this season of transition.

A hike in a foothills’ meadow reveals dozens of blue gentians, their deep corollas offering nectar to September’s remaining bumblebees.

Blue Gentian

The Mountain Bluebird is the color of Colorado’s autumn sky. In my imagination, I see a bluebird fly so high that it brushes against the dome of the sky, sweeping up the blue color with its wings.

The bluebirds will soon vanish, winging their way southward on their fall migration. The gentians will soon set seed and become dormant until next year. My shadow looks long and blue, and I can feel and see the season change.

Colorado's September Sky

Photo Credits:
Blue Gentian and September Sky by Melissa Walker
Mountain Bluebird from Wikipedia – Public Domain

This summer, my husband and I took our traditional July hike on one of our favorite trails south of Creede, Colorado. As we hiked the familiar Ivy Creek Trail, we saw many fir and pine trees that were dead, and many that had been cut and pushed off the trail. Then, after hiking 3 miles, our way was blocked. Blocked by fallen trees that looked like giant toothpicks interlocked in a chaotic jumble.

Ivy Creek and dying forest

This summer, the forests near Creede were noticeably changing. From a distance, the evergreen forest had a reddish tinge, the first obvious sign that trees are dying from the Mountain Pine Beetle infestation. Some forest landscapes were totally gray, indicating that the needles, hence the trees, were already dead. All the infected trees will eventually die, lose their needles, and then fall over. The San Juan Mountains are now experiencing the outbreak of diseased trees that other areas of Colorado, including Summit County and Steamboat Springs, have been dealing with for almost a decade.

It is difficult for me to see breathtaking Colorado mountain views now marred by dying forests. But that’s the reality. Eventually, the evergreen forests will regenerate as sun-loving aspen trees will flourish and then provide a microclimate where spruce, fir and pines will thrive again.

So, our hike was bittersweet, and I didn’t even want to write about it for awhile. We saw such beauty on the shady path – shade-loving wildflowers of Red Columbine and light blue Jacob’s Ladder growing along the creek. Will they be there when their shade is gone?

Red Columbine

Jacob's Ladder

Photo Credit: All three photos by Les Goss

Hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park earlier this week, my friends and I got an early start to beat the afternoon heat and possible thunderstorms. Beginning our hike at 9400 feet at Bear Lake Trailhead, we followed the forested trail up and over a glacial moraine on our way to Lake Helene. We also traversed wildflower meadows where white “cottonballs” of Bistort flowers and Purple Asters danced in the wind. As we approached the subalpine forest at 10,500 feet, the trail crossed very rocky terrain (a scree slope) that seemed bare of wildflowers. But it wasn’t. Somehow, the most beautiful Colorado Blue Columbines had found enough soil to take root and grow toward the bright sunshine. When I returned from my hike, I was eager to read Ann Zwinger’s description of the Colorado Columbine in her book, my favorite, Beyond the Aspen Grove:

The blooms seem suspended above the green leaves like tiny birds, and tremble in the slightest breeze. Their lavender is the depth of aspen shadow, their yellow that of the first sunlight.

Colorado Blue Columbine, July 27, 2010

The lovely Columbine is Colorado’s state flower. It was chosen not only for its beauty, but also for the symbolism of its colors. The blue and white blossom symbolizes Colorado’s blue skies and white snow. The word “Columbine” comes from the Latin word “columba” which means “dove” as the flower’s white petals resemble the wings of a dove.

Photo Credit: Melissa Walker

Visitors to Colorado Springs may be surprised to see new snow on Pikes Peak in July, but longtime residents know that it may snow on our “Fourteener” any day of the year. Still, there is an element of surprise when afternoon rain clouds clear, revealing new snow on the Peak. Such was the case yesterday, July 8.

New Snow on Pikes Peak - July 8, 2010

It doesn’t seem that summer snows and freezing temperatures would be compatible with wildflowers. Yet, many species of wildflowers thrive above 10,500′ in the subalpine and alpine elevations of Pikes Peak. Every summer, I journey to Elk Park on the north slope of the Peak to seek out the beautiful bright flowers. Especially adapted to high altitudes, these hardy perennial plants bloom and form seeds quickly during their short growing season. Sometimes, I will find “bouquets” of wildflowers nestled against the pink granite rocks that provide some shelter from the wind and intense sunlight. This is where I found two of my favorite subalpine wildflowers, the purple Dusky Penstamon and blue Chiming Bells.

Dusky Penstamon and Chiming Bells

The Alpine Sunflower is so bright and showy that it is easy to find. Its large 3″ blossom tops its short stem, making it look top-heavy. The plant’s stem and leaves are covered with wooly-looking hairs that have led to the wildflower’s nickname “Old Man of the Mountains.” The white hairs serve as insulation, an adaptation that helps protect the sunflower from the frosts, summer snows and drying winds of the subalpine and alpine climate. The “Old Man of the Mountains” flowers always face the rising sun, receiving the sun’s warming rays after cold summer nights on Pikes Peak.

Alpine Sunflowers on Pikes Peak

Photo Credits: All three photos by Melissa Walker

I was leading a bird walk in Garden of the Gods Park this morning, but the bright wildflowers were so beautifully “distracting” that the focus of the walk quickly widened. Light blue Penstamon, creamy white Yucca, light pink Wild Roses and orange-red Indian Paintbrush competed with the birds for my attention.

The rains and late snows of this year’s spring season brought adequate moisture to nurture this year’s healthy bloom of the Plains Yucca. The tall stalks of white flowers cover many of the hills and mesas in the Pikes Peak Region almost every year. The pale blossoms attract night-flying moths that pollinate the yucca. Then, within a few weeks, the flowers become bulky, 2 – 4 inch seedpods. The seeds are a good source of food for wildlife. Even after a deep snowfall, birds can fly to the tall yucca stalks and feast on the seeds.

Plains Yucca with needle-sharp leaves

Always a favorite, the orange-red Indian Paintbrush flowers really do look like paintbrushes dipped into bright paint, then set out in the foothills to dry. Indian Paintbrushes at lower elevations are usually red or orange in color. Higher in the mountain, paintbrushes of rose and light yellow are more common.

Indian Paintbrush

Adding to the beauty of the wildflowers is the sweet fragrance of the Chokecherry shrub. This member of the Rose Family has tiny white flowers arranged singly on a dangling 4 – inch flower stalk, called a raceme. After the flowers are pollinated, they change into green seeds. By late summer, the ripe seeds, now red, are called chokecherries and are a favorite food of birds, bears and other mammals.

Chokecherries in full bloom

Common Name – Pasque Flower
Latin Name – Pulsatilla patens
Family – Buttercup (Ranunculaceae)

On March 31, I hiked slowly along the trails of Bear Creek Nature Center hoping to find a Pasque Flower in bloom. I didn’t see any sign of the flowers in their usual location along the edges of a scrub oak thicket. Just as I was beginning to think that maybe I wouldn’t find one, I found two! The fragile-looking purple flower is actually quite hardy and very well-adapted to be one of Spring’s first wildflowers. It is cloaked with tiny silky hairs that help to insulate it from the cold winds and freezing temperatures of late March and early April. The flower is named “Pasque” because it blooms during the Easter (Paschal) season.

My favorite nature writer Ann Zwinger describes the Pasque Flower as,
“where there was snow last week, there is today a delicate Pasque Flower, so pale as to seem formed of snow crystals.”