Spring Mountain Spring Moon
From the Weather5280 blog:
- 22.2″ 3mi N Conifer (8:00am) This would be approximately us.
Category Archives: Shadow Mountain
Pulses
Spring Mountain Spring Moon
Under the mountain spring moon various shades of green have slowly, slowly begun to appear. The ponderosa pines have been green all winter but they’ve greened up some. The first ground cover green to appear was the bearberry when the snow melted back. This evergreen ground cover was green all along, just hidden. A shaded patch of moss has gone from a muted pale green to emerald over the last couple of weeks. There are, too, even here at 8,800 feet, dandelions. Some grass, too. Crab grass for sure, another hardy perennial. Tufts of grass that look like prairie drop seed, but are not, I’m sure, remain their winter tan.
Too, the dogs have begun to sniff through the deck, smelling, I suppose, new rodents of some kind. Along with that has come Rigel digging. With the advent of warmer soil Rigel and Vega may begin creating holes in the rest of the yard as well. Another harbinger of spring.
Birds chirp happily around 5:30-5:45 am as the sun begins to rise.
Driving along Highway 78 (Shadow Mountain Drive, Black Mountain Drive (our segment) and Brook Forest Road) the only snow that remains is on the north side of the road or in shaded spots. A pond not far from our house still has ice, but the ice has a shallow layer of water over it. The mountain streams run, burble, ice now long melted and turned into stream. Willows along the streams look fire tipped as their branches turn a green gold. “Like dusted with gold,” Kate said.
The mountain spring is a slow arriver, coming in pulses, alternated with sometimes heavy snows. We have the potential, for example, for a huge snow storm Wednesday through Friday.
While on a drive Sunday, not far from our home, on top of a large outcropping of rock where the sun penetrated the trees, lay a fox, curled up and enjoying a quiet Sunday nap. The fox was a tan spot against the gray of the rock. Mule deer have begun to return as well, we see them at various places along the slopes and valleys. Kate just called and said, for example, that we have four deer in our front yard and “the dogs are levitating.” Sure enough, there they are, finding the green just as I have been.
The Mountain Docent
Spring Mountain Spring Moon
Two years ago this January I did my last work at the Minneapolis Art Institute, a Terra Cotta Warrior tour. Right after that tour I wanted a rest, so I signed out until June of 2103. By April, two years ago exactly, the thought of making multiple drives into the city a week had become less and less interesting, even with the art reward at the other end. By June I’d decided to step back and concentrate on Missing, the novel I finished about a year ago.
It was the right move for me and one I followed by also resigning my position as chair of the Sierra Club Northstar Chapter’s Legislative Committee. In April of 2014 it was time for another Ira Progoff Journal Workshop, this time in Tucson. The impetus to fall back toward home got another push. Kate and I were still in the process of learning about retirement, hers and mine.
Since this post comes from Shadow Mountain in the Rockies, it’s clear–in retrospect–that the homecoming urge had deeper roots. Family. We changed the entire location of our life to reflect that impulse.
But. Sometime in the summer of 2013 I created a file, Art after the Minneapolis Art Institute. Visit galleries. Go to exhibitions. Read art theory. Do research on individual artists. It’s taken until April of 2015 to find a path. The Mountain Docent is a path of discovery.
Even an encyclopedic museum like the MIA has limitations in its collection. Art is not only long, it is also big. An encyclopedic museum strives to have art from each era and each culture. Of course, few but the very biggest, like the Met, the Louvre, the Prado even come close to depth across all the eras and locations of art making and they still fall very short in certain areas. Often modern and contemporary art are weak due to the encyclopedic museum’s emphasis on completeness in telling the art historical story.
The Google Cultural Institute and its Art Project delivers a different work at regular intervals on blank web pages. That made me see the direction my work with art could take. Here was an opportunity to transcend the limitations of even the most encyclopedic museums since the Art Project draws on work held in museums across the world. It also has the distinct advantage of introducing me to art, artists and artistic movements with which I’m unfamiliar. (Which is, I admit, a lot.)
Once the Art Project began exposing me to new work, options for gaining access to new work in other ways seemed to multiply. The Met’s Artist’s Project, mentioned below, has contemporary artists reflecting on works held in the Met’s collection. A viewer gains exposure to the artist who’s commenting and the art which they discuss.
Other venues will surface as time goes on. The unpredictable nature appeals to me. It allows me to investigate new artists and new works by old artists and share that learning. That was what I always enjoyed most about being a docent, learning and sharing. So the Mountain Docent will travel the world in search of art and artists that will interest and engage you. All without leaving Shadow Mountain.
In Flight
Spring, Mountain Spring Moon.
The Latin work has begun to change, moving toward more careful, yet faster translation, a new novel is underway and my exercise program has altered. So, too, is this blog undergoing change. I don’t anticipate much difference in the work I do here, but the form needs to reflect a new reality, Colorado home.
The mountains, the plants, the animals of this Western state press increasingly into our minds: scissor-tailed flycatchers, the fat fox, mule deer, mountain lions, Ponderosa and Lodgepole pine, Shadow Mountain, Black Mountain, Mt. Evans, Conifer Mountain. The drives into Denver, to Evergreen, to Aspen Park, toward the Kenosha Pass.
When the travelers have settled, the way will appear.
Wandering
Spring Mountain Spring Moon
Got tired of reviewing my Latin so I got up and wandered around in our thawing yard. Lots of things to see. Lichen growing on moss and old stones. Mule deer scat. Lamb’s quarter beginning to emerge. Green showing its springy fingerprint on so much. Still just an accent color, but soon.
This acre, though smaller than our Andover hectare, has a more spacious feeling. There is no undergrowth, no weeds, shrubs, hedges, anything. The Ponderosa cluster, a few trees to a group, several clusters and some open space. The soil, or ground, is rocky and looks unforgiving from a horticultural perspective. Not a surprise.
It feels important to me to have enough land that I can walk around it, see it from different angles. After the place in Andover, this feels necessary though I know it’s not. But, I like it. Caring for land is in my blood and I want to figure out how to make this place the best it can be. At least for now.
Mountain Weather
Imbolc Mountain Spring Moon
5-8 inches of snow for elevations in the front range above 8000 feet. That’s us. One way they tailor weather forecasts out here is by elevation. Often we get a forecast for 6,000 to 9,000 feet. That’s basically foothills, but includes those of us who live further back and higher than most of the foothills. The forecasts then get further segmented by north, central and south. We’re in the central Front Range, and at 8,800 feet on a 9,000 plus mountain and in the company of others that are 10,000 plus we’re in the mountains.
Weather forecasting out here, especially when it concerns snow and other water related events, is a matter of tremendous moment. The weather impacts ski areas, a significant part of the state’s tourism budget, but more importantly it determines, in winter, the depth of the snowpack. Not only does the Colorado snowpack directly affect the state’s regional water availability, but it also decides the fate of the Colorado River which provides water to the thirsty southwest and southern California, especially L.A.
If we’re gonna get our 5-8 inches though it’s gonna have to scramble. The morning’s snow has already melted.
The Week
Imbolc Black Mountain Moon
Neighbor to the east, Jude, has transferred to days after four years of working nights. This means that he now lets his two border collies out around 6. They bark, for some reason, without stopping until he leaves for work around 7. It makes the quiet of the early morning here less desirable, means I’ll have to adapt. Today I sorted and read e-mails.
Not sure what I’ll do over time.
A quiet week, but a busy weekend. On Friday I’ll attend the member preview of We (heart) the Rocky Mountain National Park exhibit at the Colorado History Museum. On Saturday Kate attends a mineralogy day sponsored by the Friends of the Colorado Geology Museum. It features lectures on gem coloration. Then on Sunday we go to the Curious Theater for a play that is the second of a trilogy, The Brother/Sister Plays, written by a student of August Wilson’s, Tarell Alvin McCraney. This one is In the Red and Brown Water. The first in the trilogy will play this summer and the third in the fall.
Buddy Bill Schmidt has fiddled with the fonts on Ancientrails. Thanks, Bill, I like the change. Anybody else have an opinion?
Ponderosa
Imbolc Black Mountain Moon
OK. About those lodgepole pines. Turns out they’re actually ponderosas. Ponderosas split at the top while lodgepoles go up straight like a lodgepole. So Black Mountain Drive is also Ponderosa. Cue the theme music. The bulk of the pine beetle infestation has been among lodgepole pines though Holly said yesterday that they have begun to jump to Ponderosas, too.
As Goya says in his etching, Anco impari. Still learning.
Different Place, New Rhythms
Imbolc Black Mountain Moon
We now know our neighbors across the street (Eduardo and Holly), next door to the east, (Jude), a door down and to the west across the street (Jim and Roberta), and behind us (Karen). Jon, Jen, Ruth and Gabe came out, too, to help us celebrate St. Patrick’s day. Ann Beck, the realtor who helped Kate find this house, came by later. With the exception of those times we had the annual Woolly meeting at our house in Andover, we rarely entertained. Kate’s birthdays and the occasional bonfire in our fire pit were about it.
Out here we’ve set a new lifestyle in motion, one more involved with the neighborhood. Thanks to Next Door Shadow Mountain, an online social network for our area, we’ve also communicated with Justin who lives somewhere nearby. He’s offered to mentor us in mountain gardening. He and his wife have an extensive garden.
Different place, new rhythms. As we age, it’s good to have folks around whom we know and who know us.
Kate’s initiated both of these events, so she deserves a big thanks. 
Eduardo is off to Kansas City for a week as plant manager for the uniform company he works for in Denver. He’s a second shift supervisor here. In K.C. he’ll be filling in for the top job.
Eduardo is from Tijuana originally and brought special candies from there.