Showing posts with label Aspen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aspen. Show all posts

Saturday, September 19, 2020

Mosaic Monday #97: Gone to Seed

I am feeling a little under the weather.  Maybe it's a side effect from the second part of the shingles vaccine that I took yesterday.  Or perhaps it's a type of seasonal affective disorder, brought on by the ongoing smoky environment and the shortening days.  As I thought about writing a blog post this week, it took some effort to screw up the energy to do it.  I decided I would take an easy route, and stroll the back forty for some inspiration.  Do you suppose it is just a coincidence that most of the pictures are plants that have gone to seed? Gone to seed: showing signs of advanced wear and tear and neglect.  (Merriam Webster)

Despite ongoing spraying, thistles are abundant in our lower prairie.  A plant can produce up to 6,000 seeds that can persist in the soil for over 9 years.  As the saying goes, it's a marathon, not a sprint.  I have taken to cutting off the heads to at least halt the seed production.

The Labor Day wind storm brought down a couple of our aged aspen trees, with collateral damage on the younger aspens nearby.  A close look at the stump shows that it was becoming hollow; sawdust would suggest that termites were hard at work.  In the end, it was no contest for the 40+ mile an hour winds that day.  I used to put my trail cam near here, since the deer have worn a path through this grove of aspens.  They will have to adjust their route!  For now, they have been continuing to frequent the area to eat the aspen leaves that are suddenly within reach.


Shorter days and lower night-time temperatures are wielding Nature's paintbrush, revealing yellows, oranges and reds that have been hidden by abundant chlorophyll.



Not everything in my world of Nature is rolling up the carpets for the winter.  I can't tell you how many of these ant hills we have around our property, but I can tell you that they are still very active, as you can see in the video below.  I could spend hours watching this activity and trying to make some sense of it.  How tall does the hill need to be for it to be done?  Are any of the sticks food?  If not, who is focusing on the food part of the equation?  

I have written before about the beaver family that occupies the lake at the bottom of our property.  When the beavers moved in, they applied their superior engineering skills and very effectively dammed the creek and raised the water level.  While this is a boon for the wetland ecosystem around the lake, it had the undesirable consequence of dramatically reducing water flow to several of our neighbors, some of whom rely on the water for their cattle.  The battle of the brains began, man versus rodent.  How to restore some water flow without impacting the beaver, and in a way that the beavers would ignore?  Initially, every solution the team created was thwarted by the beaver; ditches were filled in overnight, pipes with holes were plugged with mud, strategically placed boards were removed and added to the dam.  It was equal parts funny and frustrating.  At this point, it seems the latest man-made engineering feat has worked, but only time will tell.  On my last visit to the dam, I observed that the beaver has begun constructing a secondary dam, 15 feet below the original dam.  It has not stopped the water flowing into the creek, but I am not sure the critters are done yet!  Watch this space!


If you look hard enough, you can also find some plants with blooms. 

I try to ignore for the moment that the daisies and knapweed are considered invasive here.  If I get too focused on them, this walk would turn into a weed-pulling exercise rather than the diversion it is meant to be!

Update: it has been a couple of days since I started this post, and I am glad to report that, physically, I am back to myself.  I do think it was the vaccine; no regrets about taking it, but it just reminds me that I do not make a good patient!  Mentally, I am still working on my attitude.  The forecasted rain for last night and today has not materialized; the skies are gray and the smoke lingers.  Logically, I know I should count my blessings and find myself a rich woman.  Thinking that music often helps bring me around, I went looking for "autumn" songs, and came across "September" by Earth, Wind and Fire.  I hope this post finds you well, but if you need a little pick-me-up, maybe this will lift your spirits and send your toes tapping!

Welcome to Mosaic Monday, a weekly meme where we get together to share our photo mosaics and collages.
Please include at least one photo mosaic/collage in your post.
The link will be open from 1 p.m. Sunday until 11 p.m. Tuesday (U.S. Mountain time). 
Remember to add the link to your Mosaic Monday post and not the one to your blog. 
Please link back to this post so that your readers will be able to visit and enjoy more wonderful mosaics; taking the MM blog button from my sidebar is an easy way to link back. 
As host I will visit every participant and leave a comment so that you know I stopped by. 
Please try and visit as many other blogs as you can, especially those that join in later, so that everyone's creativity can be appreciated fully. 
Thank you for joining in today and sharing your mosaics with us. 


You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

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Sunday, August 26, 2018

Aspen: An Unexpected Ride with Hunter S. Thompson

Theatre Aspen Lobby viewed from
John Denver Sanctuary
Through the centuries, the human race has been inclined to categorize and stratify itself: the rich and the poor, the conquerors and the natives, the inner circle and the oddballs.  The list could go on.  Unexpectedly, the impact of such labels came home to me in a number of ways during our recent visit with #1 Daughter (#1D) during her summer stint at Theatre Aspen.




Kinda deep for a vacation, right?  How could this theme develop when I was surrounded by John Denver's Rocky Mountains, or lapping up the last drips of a summer ice cream?


It began with a visit to the Wheeler-Stallard Museum.  Jerome B. Wheeler built this Queen Anne style Victorian in 1888 for his family.  Situated on an entire city block, the home was one of many stately properties in Aspen's West End neighborhood.  Despite his plans, his wife Harriet Macy Valentine Wheeler refused to leave their mansion in Manitou Springs, Colorado and the family never lived in the house.  Edgar and Mary Ella Stallard moved in during 1905, eventually purchasing the home in 1917.  The family lived here for 40 years.  The house last served as a residence of the Aspen Institute's president before the Aspen Historical Society purchased it in 1969.  The first floor of the Museum is interpreted as a Victorian Aspen home and the second floor gallery features rotating exhibitions to explore area history.

It is the second floor gallery - that's what got me.  As we entered the house, the docent on the front desk that day asked "Do you know about Hunter Thompson?"  Without thinking, I said "Yes".  How many Hunter Thompsons could there be?  It must be the same Hunter Thompson that penned our family motto (see previous post).
Hunter Thompson

Spousal Unit was not so quick to claim the man.  "Do you mean Hunter S. Thompson?" he asked.  She replied, "I mean the Hunter Thompson that ran for sheriff in Pitkin County - the exhibit upstairs is about his campaign."  Well, that threw me - perhaps I did not know as much about this man as I should have before I chose his quote as a guiding principle for the last 10 years.  It was time to get educated.

Under the label of "Freak Power", Hunter Thompson's 1970 campaign for sheriff started as a political stunt to upset local conservatives, but morphed into a viable bid.  He hoped to expand the role of the office to address social reforms.  Rampant real estate development, draconian law enforcement, harassment of hippies, downtown traffic congestion and protection for the local environment were all issues that he aspired to tackle.

A few things struck me: How little has changed, almost 50 years later - we are still grappling with many of the same problems, even if the labels (hippies minorities) may have changed.  How Thompson advocated for the disillusioned, disenfranchised and disinterested to rise up and use their power through voting.  How a word like 'freak' can evoke such emotion as to lose potential voters.  In the official count, Thompson lost the "Battle of Aspen" by a small margin.

For us, not all was lost - our entrance fee to the house also bought us admission to the Holden/Marolt Mining and Ranching Museum, just a 15-minute walk from the house  The area's mining boom started in the early 1880's and Aspen quickly became one of the largest producers of silver in the country.  

Originally sprawling over 22 acres, the Holden Works boasted state-of-the-art technology used to extract silver from low-grade ore.  The stoutly built 'sampling' building held large, heavy machinery that pulverized the ore; that building now houses the museum and is the only structure that remains of the original complex.  

In the fall of 1893, just 14 months after the new plant opened, the US Congress repealed the Sherman Silver Purchase Act and sent the Holden Works into bankruptcy.  The plant fell into disrepair as residents cannibalized the buildings for materials during Aspen's leaner years.  Mike Marolt bought the property for $1 in 1940.  The Marolts combined it with the Midland Ranch on which they raised sheep and cattle and planted potatoes.  By the late 1950s, the family started to sell off parcels.  The almighty dollar was stronger than any commitment to continue grazing sheep or raising cattle on this land.
Upper left: examples of the "Devil's Rope" - barbed wire;  Upper right: Oliver "Red River Special" Thresher
Lower left: barbed wire on the bottom is the most familiar style and is called Glidden's Winner
Lower right: Mining frame
That evening, we attended a performance of Ragtime at Theatre Aspen; #1D was the Rehearsal Production Assistant for the show, which deserved its standing ovation.  (We were delighted to be joined by my brother, his wife, their two sons and the girlfriend of one of the boys.)  Ragtime tells the story of three groups in the United States in the early 20th century: African Americans, represented by Coalhouse Walker, Jr., a Harlem musician; upper-class suburbanites, represented by Mother, the matriarch of a white upper-class family in New Rochelle, New York; and Eastern European immigrants, represented by Tateh, a Jewish immigrant from Latvia.  I found my mouth open during much of the performance; so many of its themes resonate with today's issues - the ongoing struggle for minorities, women and immigrants to be seen for their talents and not for any other characteristic.  After the show, we asked ourselves about the timing of the writing - imagine our surprise that it was based on the 1975 novel by E. L. Doctorow.  We have not come far.

OK, lest this whole post become a bummer, let me talk about redemption.  I observed several examples of 'open spaces' that have been generously preserved by the early Aspen families and the community.

We toured the John Denver Sanctuary, and discovered that it is aptly named.  An oasis in the city … a garden in which you can imagine that the issues of the day CAN be solved .. a place where all labels and divisions fade away …. He died too young, but his spirit and his words will continue to inspire those who grew up with his music, as well as those new to his legacy.

Strolling the aspen-lined streets of the town, I was like a bee to the honey with the bountiful flowers - in pots, on fences, in front yards.  Even the shops had gardens.  Something about growing things, and the desire of the human race to be surrounded by such beauty, helps to restore my faith in humanity.  (#1D, Spousal Unit and I were mesmerized by this hummingbird moth.)


We thoroughly enjoyed a performance of Godspell at Theatre Aspen (also attended by my brother and his wife); #1D served as Assistant Stage Manager for the production (thank you, my dear, for bringing back cherished memories of my time on light crew for our high school Godspell run).  The lyrics to Light of the World struck a chord with me (pun intended).



You are the light of the world
You are the light of the world
But if that light's under a bushel,
Brrr, it's lost something kind of crucial
You got to stay bright to the light of the world



You are the salt of the earth
You are the salt of the earth
But if that salt has lost its flavor
It ain't got much in its favor
You can't have that fault and be the salt of the earth!



So let your light so shine before men
Let your light so shine
So that they might know some kindness again
We all need help to feel fine (let's have some wine!)



You are the city of God
You are the city of God
But if that city's on a hill
It's kinda hard to hide it well
You've got to stay pretty in the city of God

So let your light so shine before men
Let your light so shine
So that they might know some kindness again
We all need help to feel fine (let's have some wine!)



You are the light of the world
You are the light of the world
But the tallest candlestick 
Ain't much good without a wick
You've got to live right to be the light of the world




On our last day, we hiked the popular route to the Maroon Bells.  Dozens of people completed the 3.8 mile trek out and back - tall, short, runners, walkers, seasoned folks, young'uns, those with boots and those in sandals.  Despite our differences, we had a common goal.  Isn't that what it should be about?  Everything should be about?

P.S. As I was getting ready to publish this morning, Spousal Unit read me this Barack Obama tweet - it says it all.

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