A FEW WEEKS ago I added a blog post that described one of the main reasons why my Colorado home has come to mean so much to me: The Living Land – Colorado Wildlife Photos #1. (The reason, to put it simply, is because my home is a living land, abundantly rich with life, and that stepping into it and pulling all that life tight around me fills me the absolute joy of homecoming.)
When I began writing that blog, I decided I’d illustrate it with my favourite wildlife photos from right across Colorado. But the trouble was, once I began gathering photos I discovered I had far too many for one post. So, instead, I limited it to photos taken close to home, to photos taken in my ‘backyard’. (Which, arguably, was far too many photos anyway!)
The purpose for this blog is to share the images I didn’t use – wildlife photos from elsewhere in Colorado. That makes this blog a follow up, a ‘part two’. If you haven’t read ‘part one’ I’d suggest skipping back and reading it. The context might help. Then again, perhaps it’s not needed. This ‘part two’ could just as easily be enjoyed for what it is: a brief glimpse of the natural world – our living home – a place where the self-inflicted insanities of the human world can be left behind and where life can be the sane and uplifting experience it was ‘supposed to be’ all along…
I thought I’d start with a quintessential wilderness shot: a large fellow citizen of our shared planet at home in our shared wild: a bull moose entering a pond beneath the summits of The Sawtooth and Mount Bierstadt, a few moments after the closest moose encounter I’ve ever had. (Honestly, it was hard to know which photo to start with. There’s no particular order to any of the photos that follow. This really is just a random collection of wildlife photos. There’s no story. Just a celebration!)
Bald eagle, May, Flat Tops Wilderness, western Colorado. Those talons!
Zoom lens portrait of a bighorn sheep ewe . (Please note: the majority of these images and especially the close ups were taken by zoom. See previous blog for a brief comment on wildlife photography ethics.)
Bighorn sheep in their element! December, Rocky Mountain National Park.
Bighorn Ram, Front Range.
A typical sighting of a wary bighorn flock.
Another typical sighting! Bighorn overhead (where they belong!) grazing on sparse tundra vegetation on a rugged slope. May.
Once, by chance, I found myself seated in their midst, watching them feed, my stillness giving the sheep no cause for alarm.
To be surrounded by grazing wildlife, with the wildlife going about their business without fear, was – I can’t help but feel – the way our relationship with our fellow citizens ought to be. I’ve met sheep hunters up in that wilderness several times. ‘Seen any sheep?’ I’ve been asked. Well, perhaps you can guess my misleading replies! I can only imagine how the wild goose chases that I’ve instigated must have panned out!
A photo of perhaps the most common mountain citizen most High Country visitors see, as well as the most commonly-seen pose! Yellow-bellied Marmot on the alert, June, in The Cauldron of Swirling Clouds.
Normally spotted perched atop a boulder, I caught this Hoary Marmot resting on the tundra one July.
Another fairly typical pose. ‘What’s going on then?’
Four Hoary Marmots, ready to scamper to safety at the slightest hint of danger.
Hoary Marmot, unconcerned by the approaching storm. July a few years ago near Abyss Lake.
Close up. This marmot was determined to explore my camp, a sign that other visitors hadn’t been careful with food. My supplies, however, were hung from a rock far beyond reach.
A thrilling sight: bull moose among willows. (Spot the mosquito directly in front of the moose’s nose! A real David vs Goliath moment that might have been driving the moose’s behaviour as it headed to the watery relief of the nearby pond.)
A good distance to watch moose, from a quarter-mile away, not from up close!
Big bull moose near Brainard Lake, September.
What incredibly majestic citizens bull moose are!
A placid cow moose deep in the forest. I was off trail and spotted her as I stole around a corner. I quickly backed up, grabbed a couple of shots through the limbs of a tree, then followed a long detour to give her space. Most of my moose encounters have been like that, including with big males. Once I walked around a spruce thicket and there the bull was, perhaps fifteen feet away, already moving its head and feet in displeasure. I spun on the spot in one smooth motion (in an instinctive imitation of John Cleese doing the same once in Fawlty Towers) and the spruce were once again between us!
The most memorable moose encounter I’ve ever had began with spotting a bull moving toward me through tight willows – NOT an ideal situation! The full story will appear in my next book!
The bull moose fighting its way through mud to get into deeper water.
Moose and mallard, July.
Ptarmigan in frigid winter conditions. I find the resilience of these citizens profoundly inspiring!
Ptarmigan, summer plumage. August.
Hunkering down among willow stems to escape January’s raking winds.
A bull elk in the foothills above home, with autumn mist beginning to clear. Their evocative ‘bugling’ echoed about the hills. (For a sample, on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gBk04ajuxk)
Elk, seeking a respite from a scorching August day. Mount Blue Sky, summit flats.
Two elk half-heartedly jousting on a frosty April morning in the foothills. Boys will be boys!
Elk and magpie, mutually-beneficial symbiotic ‘friends’. (https://www.colorado.edu/asmagazine-archive/node/466)
Two elk, antlers in velvet. June, foothills.
A photo from twenty years ago, taken on an old point-and-shoot that I used to run with. The photo is poor in quality, perhaps, but I love the atmosphere.
A passing red fox. June, White Ranch in the foothills.
A Woodhouse Toad (I think!) beneath Colorado’s Western Slope. May, near Fruita.
Magnificent raven atop Mount Bierstadt. I feel so drawn to ravens. And slightly envious, too. Something about the hint of deep intelligence, perhaps. Or the absolute self-assured certainty in themselves that they exude.
Wild turkeys in the foothills; two members of a large flock. They were fanning their tails and drumming, quite the show. April, in a hidden spot I know as ‘Turkey Central’.
A relaxed and contented expression if ever there was one! Mountain goat above the clouds. July, Mount Blue Sky.
Count the goats! Can you see all sixteen? Mountain goats on an outcrop in the Eagles Nest Wilderness.
Close up of a kid from the previous shot.
Mountain goats don’t belong in Colorado. They were introduced for hunting between 1948 and 1974 and have flourished, often to the detriment of native bighorn sheep. And yet, I still can’t help but feel awe and gratitude when I see them, as I do with all encounters with fellow mountain citizens, great or small. This magnificent billy looked to be in its prime.
A white silhouette against a deep blue Colorado sky.
Nanny and kid (with adorably-tiny horns!).
A quintessential above-it-all mountain goat shot. August, Mount Blue Sky, with the foothills and plains stretching away to the east.
Close up. A ragged summer coat.
Mountain goat in the Eagles Nest Wilderness, July.
Hummingbird in the Sangre de Cristo range, photographed approaching a feeder at a cabin my family had rented for a few days.
The ‘hum’ of passing hummingbirds and the flash of iridescent tropical colour is a regular summer occurrence and, for me, always a treat.
Fast-moving wings, frozen by a quick exposure into stillness.
Snowshoe hare. I had to keep chasing it away. It wanted to nibble on my tent’s guy lines. June, Sangre de Cristo range.
A passing porcupine in deep end-of-day twilight in the Maroon Bells Snowmass Wilderness, August.
Barely ‘wild’ life, but worth including for their historical significance: bison at Genesee in the foothills.
A golden-mantled ground squirrel, on the lookout for camp scraps as usual. September, Indian Peaks Wilderness.
Perhaps one day I’ll actually spot a mountain lion! But I have seen plenty of lion prints. March, the foothills.
Bear tracks, late one October. They appeared overnight on a trail I’d followed the evening before en-route to camp. The prints were also heading toward my camp, but fortunately veered off into the forest before reaching it. A good reminder to keep camp clean and food-free!
My only bear photo! It was almost night – much darker than the image looks – and the bear was exploring an orchard surrounding the cabin my family had rented. The only black bears I’ve seen have been in (or on the edge) of mountain towns, and only at night, usually raiding badly-secured trash. Perhaps one day I’ll be lucky and see one in the wild behaving more naturally.
My favourite High Country inhabitant, a pika, collecting food and bedding for its home among talus. The evocative and echoing ‘meep meep’ of pikas always brings to the surface the joy I associate with High Country miles and High Country camps. ‘Meep meep’ is the treasured soundtrack to some of the finest moments in my life.
A beautiful pika.
And finally, for fun, Colorado’s cheery one-eyed Cyclops!
Thanks for reading!