Category Archives: Wild Neighbors

Elk Run, Mountains, Wild Neighbors

A Dead Bear

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Robin has begun to declutter my living area. Soon, maybe this week, I’ll have an organized apartment with art hung. Ready to live in, not just exist. Feels good to be at this point.

Struggled with workouts. Not sure why. I know how important they are.

Crystal, one of my favorite caregivers, came in to pick up Shadow for a walk. You have to see this. I thought it was a trash bag, you know, those stretchy ones?

She had taken trash out to the big dumpsters and there, on top of one, lay a dead black bear. The picture she took with her phone showed a large bear lying on its side on the blue top of the dumpster. Always sad to see dead wild neighbors.

How did it get there? Unknown. Though. The odds that it crawled up there to die? Slim. Would have been heavy to lift. A mystery.

Finished up my long term care claim form, mailing it back today. I have a good feeling about it even though I know they usually say no twice before approving a claim.

Shadow went on a play date to see Annie. She has a good time. They’re buds.

Rainy and cool here. Temps in the low forties, thirties. Snow in the forecast for tonight. Seasons.

 

Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Wild Neighbors

Habits

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Discovered from my neighbor John that the red fox I mentioned yesterday comes to Elk Run often. Our wild neighbors have their habits. On Shadow Mountain three yearling does came often, crossing Black Mountain Drive to dine below a large aspen. Three Elk bucks came, for four years straight, in the first week of June to enjoy fresh dandelion blooms in my backyard,

Sighting wild neighbors bonds those of us who live in the mountains. Bears. Mountain lions. Moose. Our shared home gives delight to all of us.

The nights have gotten longer, their temperatures dropping into the high forties. Fall, so reluctant these past few years, does come. Later than in the past. Though the golden aspens appear, daytime heat remains higher than normal.

Last year’s poor snowfall and the subsequent diminished rain fall in spring and summer drove our black bear population down mountains in search of food. More trash cans spilled. More human-bear encounters. More euthanized bears.  A low visibility tragedy.

May super El Nino bring us snow. Lots of snow.

Elk Run, GeekWorld, Minnesota, Wild Neighbors

Wild Neighbor

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Hoping the citizens of Minneapolis win the Noble Peace Prize. They deserve it.

Scheduled my Starlink install for October 19th. Should improve/eliminate buffering caused by weak Centurylink wi-fi. I’ll be happy to get a strong, consistent signal.

I don’t like Elon Musk. Starlink, however, for those of us in rural/mountainous areas, has far better service than the best of the rest. That matters when significant relationships reside in far-flung points both inside the U.S. and out. Maine, Saudi Arabia, Korea for example.

Critter watch: Living in the mountains my peripheral vision finds interesting things. On Saturday it caught motion down the slope outside my living room window. When I turned, a gorgeous red fox picked its way down the steep incline. His fur, really more orange than red, fluffed out, making him appear bigger. Healthy. His coat abundant. His eyes darted here and there. Ready.

So glad I found a new home still in the mountains.

Waiting on a caregiver to come and take Shadow outside, then I’ll head down for breakfast.

 

assisted Living, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Wild Neighbors

Elk. Elk Run.

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A week from today is packing day. Yikes! Just kidding. I have confidence in Robin and in the work done up till now. We’ll be ready.

A week from tomorrow I’ll be outta here. Hard to imagine. Eleven years plus on Shadow Mountain. Living on a mountain peak. All downhill from here. Evergreen, for example, sits 1,600 feet lower at 7,200 feet. Should aid my O2 saturation.

Elk Run’s main road passes the Life Care Center and the synagogue before ending at the entrance to Elk Meadow Park. This huge open area remains an Elk dense area as it has, I imagine, for centuries. I’ve seen herds of hundreds in it. Not often.

As a result, the synagogue, Life Care Center, and Elk Run have numerous Elk Bulls, Cows, and Calves on their property. Eating grass. Lounging under a bright blue Colorado sky. I look forward to seeing them.

 

Over to Elk Run today for an assessment that will determine what services I’ll need upon moving in. Shower help. Light help dressing. Rides to appointments. A walker for Shadow. That’s what I think I’ll need. We’ll see.

I will also sign a contract for my stay and any other documents necessary. A full morning. Ginny and Janice pick me up at 9:30.

They came over yesterday. Luke was here, too. Great conversation, laughing. Leo, Luke’s 13 year old Belgian Malnois, creaked around on arthritic legs. In spite of them he wanted to play with Shadow. Great to see his inner puppy.

 

Meanwhile, Dopy Don breaks ground for his triumphal arch. Please let this be one that can be stopped.

Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Memories, Plants, Weather +Climate, Wild Neighbors

Amorous Bulls and Hyperphagic Bears

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The nights grow longer. Temperatures have cooled. The main harvest is only weeks away. We’re moving toward Samhain, or Summer’s End. First though we gather the bounty of the growing season over the long harvest that begins in Lughnasa and extends toward the end of Mabon.

I’ve written about back to school nostalgia. There’s also, for this Midwestern boy, memories of coming over a slight hill on a gravel road. Once in a while, during this time of year, a lumbering combine or a big John Deere pulling a corn picker can suddenly appear. Brakes. Gravel dust. Becoming part of the slow procession.

In the fields corn stands tall and green, its ears prominent in their maturity. Row after parallel row of corn. A major crop where I grew up. Alfalfa, too. Not much wheat, the fields often too small. Unlike the vast plantings in Nebraska. Soy beans, a lot of soy beans. Farmers would say, “I grow corn and beans.”

In my life harvest is not abstract or metaphorical. It is basic, predictable, woven into our fall days. Up here in the Rockies fall announces itself through hyperphagic bears tipping over garbage bins and that strange sound, the bugling of an amorous Elk bull. After 67 years in the Midwest I still look for slow-moving harvest machinery.

 

Family, Judaism, Mountains, Paganism, Plants, Reimaging revelation, Wild Neighbors

All Sacred, All One, For All Time

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Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Alan. Ablations scheduled. Radiation approved, but not scheduled. Hip injection scheduled. Soft collar orthotics in. My medical October has bled far into November. Tom and his telehealth today. Shadow. Her vitality. Sheet pan meals. Cooking again. Canceling Cook Unity. Tara. Aurora Borealis in Colorado. The Edmund Fitzgerald. Lake Superior. Wolf 21.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: a day of rest

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Chesed.  Loving Kindness.        “Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind see.”  Mark Twain

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The Aurora, shining shimmering curtains of green and red that dance, flow, shift, grow and fade, took them for granted in Andover where for most of the twenty years, I could go out on our front porch and watch them, that placed against the wonder of Coloradans seeing them, many for the first time after these latest, massive coronal ejections.

 

Mother Earth, Great Sol. Yin and yang. Visible when the protective magnetic field of our Mother receives bursts of highly charged particles released during a coronal mass ejection.

Awe. Wonder. Desire. That is, desire to remain here, by this Pond, clothed in the majesty of existence by all that’s holy and sacred.

Another moment, in looking back, when the sacred oneness revealed itself, said look here, can you not understand that the Largemouth Bass, the Goats on the farm, the Trees in the wood lot, Judy, yourself also dance, whirling like dervishes endowed with the holy, connected and interdependent for all time?

Each time I drive home from Evergreen, I drive by Kate’s Valley and her Stream, and further on, past the Upper Maxwell Falls trailhead, the spot where the Elk Bull appeared to me drenched in the Rainy Night, standing on the Forest’s edge. In both places I nod, see them in their apparently mundane clothing, the light of Day suggesting nothing special to see here. A small Mountain Valley, a stand of Aspens along Black Mountain Drive.

Yet. I know. These places revealed their sacred nature to me when I turned over the Bresnahan urn with its flame signatures glazed in earthy, russet colors and spilled into the clear Mountain Stream the final remains of my love, my wife, my soulmate. As that Bull Elk did on a Rainy May night.

They have taught me, in their every day appearance, that no the sacred is not only there in moments of heightened emotion or sudden clarity. Rather, her Stream runs sacred in the light of a November morning, no more and no less sacred than the White Pines and Lodgepoles that line its banks along with the holy Wild Strawberries, the sacred Raspberry. The Water. The Rocks. And the Sky above them. All sacred, all one, for all time.

 

Politics, Wild Neighbors

A One-Antlered Elk Bull

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Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: New electric blanket and duvet. November. Late fall. Aspen leaves still visible on the ground, their golden color now faded. Elk Cows and three Bulls along Cub Creek at the turn into Evergreen. Alan and the Dandelion. Joanne back home. Shadow eating her breakfast. Torah study. Cutting out the Tomato Plants. Planting Lettuce, Arugula, Chard. Cooking. Sheet pan meals. Alan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: That one-antlered Elk Bull, all grown up

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Chesed.  Loving Kindness.  “Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind see.”  Mark Twain

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Have you ever seen the slimy evidence of a Banana Slug as it chews its way through Lettuce, Tomatoes, Bean Stalks, or the delicate imprint of two cloven hooves, perhaps a yearling Mule Deer, maybe the segmented three toed evidence of Wild Turkeys in the Snow, perhaps the imprint of a small rubber rainboot heading not away from the big puddle but into it, if so, you have witnessed the presence of another by the trail they leave behind.

 

Wild Neighbors: On June 6th of 2019 I began my first day of 35 sessions of radiation. Before I left for Lonetree that morning, I looked out back and there were three young Elk Bulls in the back yard, hundreds of pounds each, dining one by one on the yellow dandelions I encourage to grow there. One of the Bulls had only one antler.

These same three, the one antlered one among them returned for three more early June sessions over the years, sometimes staying the night to resume their meal; then they stopped coming. I figured they’d been shot or died an early death of one sort or another.

When I turned off Brook Forest Drive yesterday on my way into Evergreen, several, maybe as many as twenty dark brown Elk Cows lined the banks of Cub Creek, resting in the yards of two small houses, eating grass, drinking from the Creek. A not uncommon sight there.

Watching over them were three Elk Bulls, one with only one antler. Of course I can’t be sure they were the same Bulls who ate yellow flowers in my back yard, but in the almost eleven years I’ve lived here, I’ve only seen one one-antlered Bull.

Most often, too, I see only one Bull with a harem of this size. There were three. All grown up. They stood proud and watchful while most of the Cows reclined as if in a pillowed room of a Caliph’s inner sanctum. In my imagination anyhow these are the same three, deciding to live their best Elk lives together, breaking the usual rules and sharing their duties without antler clacking acrimony.

Made me smile.

 

Just a moment: With Tuesday’s heartening election results still resonant, I cringe even more at the Supreme Court allowing (temporarily, they say) red tie guy to intentionally starve millions of our impoverished fellow citizens. If only cruelty and meanness were bread and meat, no one would go hungry in Trump’s America made great again.

Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, Wild Neighbors

Coming to Summer’s End

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Mabon and the Samain Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Paul. Marilyn and Irv. Big O. Closing up the cold frames. 19 degrees this morning. A cold Rain. 23 in the greenhouse. Bye, bye Tomatoes. The Diplomat. High quality TV. Joanne, coming home today. Aspen Perks. Maddie, coming today. CBE bridge this afternoon. Red Tie Guy trying to make nice with fellow tyrant, Kim Jong Un.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow Tires

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1   Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Shifted waiting room chairs after Great Sol heated me up, found a shaded one as customers came in, spoke with front desk clerks about brakes, a steering wheel that wobbled at forty miles per hour, which winter tire to buy while I laughed out loud, often, reading Carl Hiaasen’s Beach Fever on the Kindle app of my Samsung phone.

Following Alan’s plan from last year, I had my Snow tires put on a bit early, beating the November scrum that often finds appointments out past Thanksgiving. Big O, not Stevenson Toyota. Cheaper and closer. An 8:30 am drive down Black Mountain/Brook Forest Drive listening to Hard Fork, the New York Times podcast about tech with a focus on AI.

Aspens in sheltered places remain the grand golden torches of the late Fall Forest though most have lost their leaves to Wind and Rain. This is a delicate moment between our bicolored Fall and the bitter weather leading toward Thanksgiving. No Snow here yet, though Black Mountain’s ski runs did collect Snow a week ago.

Elk Cows gathered along Maxwell Creek where it turns and flows through Evergreen, their horned Patriarch lounging as the Cows ate Grass and drank from the cold Waters of this Mountain Stream. Evergreen Lake had no paddle boarders, no kayakers.

A quiet anticipation. Black Bears nearing the end of hyperphagia, hunting for or returning to dens to sleep away the fallow time. Elk Cows and Mule Deer Does quickening with Calves and Fawns.

Humans have on their hoodies, fleece. Most have on long pants though I saw a  man yesterday in bright yellow down vest, shorts, and sandals. Temperatures vary a lot between Sun and Shade, between early morning and midday making what to wear solved only by layers.

10 foot tall skeletons, ghosts made of used sheets, orange trash bags filled with leaves sport pumpkin faces. The increasing and earlier decorations for All Hallow’s Eve, or the feast of Summer’s End, Samain.

Summer has not fully fled with Denver hitting seventy-five this week. A few 60’s in our highs for Shadow Mountain.

We hang here between the final harvests of late fall gardens and the full stop of the growing season. Life in my late seventies mirrors this time. How long until l come to an end of my growing season? Words begin to disappear. The body becoming a brown husk, its seed long harvested, waiting for that first heavy Snow.

Ancient Brothers, Colorado, Friends, Holidays, Judaism, Mountains, Park County, Photography, The West, Wild Neighbors
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Erev Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow, my sweet girl. Kate, always Kate. Ruth and Gabe. The gathering darkness. The Siddur for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the Machzor. Nylabone. Kongs. Artemis, ripening Tomatoes. First salad soon. Talmud Torah. Red tie guy. Burger King. His paper crown. Ruby. The boiler. The mini-splits. The Fireplace. All ready for fall. And, winter.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Aspen gold on Black Mountain

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yirah. Awe and Reverence

Tarot: King of Pentacles, reversed (Druid Craft)  It indicates a need to loosen up and take responsible risks to grow.  Gemini

One brief shining: Plucking ripe Cherry Tomatoes, taking in the Plant’s earthy, acidic perfume, popping them into my mouth, tasting the sweetness no store bought Tomato can deliver makes the expense and fuss of Artemis more than worthwhile, it makes it an ordinary miracle.

 

Judaism: The Siddur, order of service for the High Holidays- Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur-weighs in at 1200 plus pages of prayers, psalms, poetry, Torah, blessings, and much more. The first written service siddurs came into existence in the 9th century, but it took the invention of the printing press to accelerate their use in most synagogues.

We studied a parsha from Deuteronomy used on Yom Kippur and a major prayer, the Amidah, yesterday morning at the bagel table. Rabbi Jamie, Ginny, Luke, and me.

As I’ve written here before, I’m more of a Sukkot, Simcha Torah, Passover, Shavuot,  sorta Jew. More focused on the strong linkage between earth-focused holidays that celebrate the harvest, Sukkot, or spring planting, like Passover, and the long tradition of their celebration within Jewish communities over thousands of years.

Yet. Modern day Judaism focuses a bright light on the Days of Awe. This year I plan to attend outside services for Rosh Hashanah, possibly Yom Kippur. See what the contemporary focus means. I say possibly for Yom Kippur because its two days coincide with the lidocaine injections for my ablation procedure.

 

A few photographs from the Beaver Dam trip:

 

Ancient Brothers, Cinema and Television, Friends, Mountains, Park County, The West, Wild Neighbors

Finding the Beaver Dam

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Tom. Three Victorias. Their deluxe burrito and their sopa de albondigas, or meatball soup. Beavers. The MIT mascot. Their Pond up Park County Rd. #60. Burning Bear Creek Trail.  North Fork of the South Platte River. Golden Aspen. Small Beaver dams. A really big Beaver dam. Colorado back country on the way to Kenosha Pass and South Park.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Beavers

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe and reverence. The days of Awe, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

Tarot: Seven of Wands, reversed (Druid Craft) “It may be time to seek support from others or connect with your community instead of going it alone.”   Gemini

One brief shining: Tom’s rental, a fire engine red Buick SUV, signaled each dip and ridge in Park Country Road #60 as he drove us through Hall Valley alongside the fast running North Fork of the South Platte River while I looked for the Beaver felled Aspen stumps that would show me when to look for the Beaver pond turnoff. Saw them.

 

Tom’s visit: Psst, buddy! Wanna see a really big Beaver dam? Tom and I had finished our breakfast at Primo’s, trying to decide what we might do next. He liked the idea of seeing the Beaver dam, about forty minutes further along Hwy 285 on the way to Fairplay.

We drove through Bailey commenting on the Sasquatch Center we had visited the last time we ate at the nearby Cutthroat Cafe. I mentioned again the faux pas I made there. I’d asked the guy at the counter if anyone believed this stuff. An hour and several blurry jpeg’s later I had my answer.

The Platter River Canyon, carved out by the North Fork of the South Platte, has broad meadows and tourist cabins, an Orvis Approved Dude Ranch, and the Santa Maria YMCA camp. Near Grant is the Shaggy Sheep restaurant where I’ve often eaten. Beyond Grant a few miles is Park County #60.

A while back I wanted to hike the Burning Bear Creek Trail, as much for its name as the trail description. I missed the trail head but kept driving because Hall Valley had beautiful stands of Aspen and Lodgepoles, the North Fork of the South Platte, and a view of a Mountain Range in the distance.

A good ways in I began to notice the stumps of Aspens with the slanted, tufted sign of Beavers at work. At a nearby parking lot I turned in and saw the largest Beaver dam I’d ever seen. Guess it had to be big because the North Fork runs strong.

Tom and I stopped there, too. Finding smaller dams along the way, Beaver water roads, and stands of dead Lodgepole drowned by the expansion of the Pond.

 

Just a moment: If you haven’t seen Comedy Central’s Daily Show in a while I highly recommend season 30’s episode 102, aired on September 18, 2025. In it Jon Stewart and cast skewer the cancel culture promoted by red tie guy, aka The Burger King. I paid $.77 to watch it. Best entertainment spend in a while.