Misplaced Again

My wife and I are moving, from Colorado Springs, Colorado to Leavenworth, Kansas. I kid that we are moving to Leavenworth voluntarily, not as the result of incarceration, but the truth is that I am still not a willing participant. Her parents live there, and she wants to spend more time with them. I like my in-laws, so no problems there, but I also spent most of my adult life avoiding my own parents. Even now that both are deceased, I have zero interest in “going home” again.

Like most men, I don’t do well when I interpret a situation as one in which I have no choices. This is especially true when it comes to expenditures that are required for home and car repairs, insurance, medical costs, and other non-elective expenses. Having no choice can also apply to relocation when you either agree with your spouse’s decision or start looking for a divorce attorney. In no way do I “blame” my wife, but I see the window closing on a more optimal retirement scenario for us.

I would have preferred moving farther south, at least. The more I age the more intolerant I have become of extended periods of cold, or rollercoaster weeks like we have here in Colorado. At least we have plenty of sun. Meanwhile, Leavenworth is best known for prisons, the fort, and churches, three institutions that I largely abhor. Mostly, I want to live in a place that reflects my identity, my appreciation of, and dedication to, equality, justice, and inclusiveness.

Over the years we have accumulated far too many material goods, and purging them has been painful. Going through my own parents’ belongings, journals, and keepsakes, and discarding most of it, has left me feeling like I have betrayed them once again. At a visceral level I can’t help but think I am erasing their existence, rendering them invisible and irrelevant. I know that is not the case, but my entire childhood was one of denying that their tumultuous marriage, and eventual separation and divorce, had no impact on me. Then, as an adult, the PTSD asserted itself and I became a crusader for the rights of children of divorce.

The pictures, the household objects, they all symbolize the anger, the longing for stability and peace, and the resentment of the absence of anything resembling normalcy. In retrospect, neither my mother nor father were properly equipped to be parents. My mother did astoundingly well in spite of that, but she was overprotective. My father was just flat-out angry all the time, or on the verge of it. “Mamma’s boy” and “you’re just like your father” were not compliments, and I could not do right by one parent without insulting the other.

My wife put their cremated remains in the same suitcase. I thought they were already there, and was surprised they had not burst into flames all over again. Not funny, really, but they had no reverence for me, either. Yes, I am spiteful. I can be mean and hateful, though I am more aware of the triggers now.

What has been even more painful is what we cannot find in the course of cleaning and packing. The self-portrait in graphite that I did in college is nowhere to be seen. I am most devastated at losing my own creations. I already sacrificed my insect collection, an endeavor of forty-some years. It was the right thing to do, donating it to a museum where it will be properly cared for indefinitely and made available to scientists around the world. Still, I can’t point to it and say “I did that.” That is hugely demoralizing. Like most men, I don’t do well with intangibles, either. There is no observable value to them. My identity is closely tied to what I have produced, if only because that is what our society demands. We must demonstrate concretely our accomplishments. That can be a topic for another blog post.

What am I left with? Where, exactly, am I going, apart from a small town? Why is it not enough to be taking my person with me? Why do I assume I no longer have freedom, in any sense of the word? What do I have left to do, to be? Where would I rather be? When would I rather be? Who am I really, and how do I reconcile the past and the future?

Anger and Apathy

© Pinterest

A few days ago I posted this statement to my Facebook page: "I am angry because I fear the only other option is apathy." I was curious as to the responses, and I was not disappointed. The comments reflect a wide spectrum of viewpoints and coping strategies in our troubling times.

I find that my mind often perceives things as black or white, as limited to only a couple of points on the spectrum. I have been known to become impatient with people who do not express outrage at what I see as an injustice or other wrongdoing, usually inflicted by a government agency or policy, or a private corporation or religious institution. A lack of response in the face of egregious acts I see as either agreement with the action, or apathy.

Why don't you care?! How can you not be as angry as I am? Do not get me started with "life isn't fair." Our only responsibility while we are on this planet is to do our best to make life more equitable. We have instead allowed ourselves to be channeled into a way of thinking that elevates the attainment of vast personal material wealth as the highest degree of success....but I digress.

The responses to my statement were more concerned with personal psyche than with whatever triggers anger. "Anger is only good if you use it for organization towards a goal," wrote the person who replied first. "I go with rage, because horrific sadness sucks," said another. "True...stay with anger," wrote another in agreement.

The next response was perhaps the most revealing, and puzzled me: "Have you tried empathy? I helps me when i get where you are at." That somehow made me even more frustrated, and I answered "My empathy often incites my anger. I have an intense sense of justice and fairness, and of course the world is anything but." Farther down in the comments was a similar answer: "I know how you feel, Eric. And my only statement is this: Empathy expands you while anger only shrinks you. Small words, I know."

No, those are profound words which got me thinking, after I wrote " But I AM empathetic! That is where a lot of my anger comes from: injustices to people I empathize with." What next entered my mind, but which I did not communicate outright, was something to the effect of "do you expect me to have empathy for irresponsibly affluent people, for racists, for bigots, for those who put profits above environmental health? Am I to empathize with people who deny others the right to affordable housing, healthcare, food, and opportunity?" I cannot imagine that is what you mean, but if so then I need to reconsider some of my social media friends.

I am not sure why more people do not see the link between empathy and outrage. You cannot witness injustice after injustice and not be driven to madness....unless you benefit from the status quo. "I too am angry," wrote another friend. They continued "It doesn't help. Neither does the immense sadness I feel. Between the two I am stuck. We have politicians who deny climate change, and politicians who acknowledge it, but refuse to do anything on their watch. I am 74, and will live to see the devastation and great extinctions. They are already happening. I think I am doing what I can. It is not enough." I would argue that sometimes it is enough to simply express solidarity with other empathetic people.

Another sentiment: "Rage, grief, when it's too much, sometimes a numbing sets in. When it hurts too much to care... Everyone has their own way of dealing. Some become apathetic and some don't recognize how much they've changed until an event occurs in their life to wake them up again. Some never wake up. Some never feel alive again. Some fight all of it within and some are lucky enough to have a life that sustains their spirit. Many are not so lucky." Well said, friend.

"I believe ACTION is a third option," mentioned another person, and my response was that I am very much an "idea man." I am horrible at taking action on those ideas. I often don't know where to start. That is why I write. Another person chimed in "Writing is action. And, if compelling, it propels other people to take action. We cannot sit by paralyzed by depression, disappointment, inertia, whatever! The stakes are much, much, much too high...."

I was reminded by another that it might help channel my anger if I read more: "It occurs to me that I ought to read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. We’re all talking in affirmative messages that are pertinent for 'normal' times, and they’re still true but don’t feel proportionate to the current set of catastrophes. I want to see how a man got himself through a time when the world was completely falling apart.

What do you do in the face of injustice and misguided priorities by those in power and those who do not know better because of ignorance? Are you shopping differently in the marketplace? Writing and calling your public representatives? Practicing civil disobedience? Please share your ways of coping, and changing the world. Thank you.

Unfriendly Fire

© KOAA.com

Having military bases as neighbors is not without its irritations, but last week civilians were forced to evacuate when the Carson Midway Fire swept through their neighborhoods after "going off the reservation" as it were. While I support our troops, the men and women on the ground at home and abroad, I do not always endorse the missions they are sent on, nor the leadership calling the shots. It is my opinion that the Army base of Fort Carson clearly compromised public safety by insisting on using live ammunition for training exercises during red flag warning days of high winds, exacerbated by severe drought. Surely, solutions exist.

The Carson Midway Fire actually represents the fusion of two separate fires. The merger resulted in the burning of 3,300 acres, reaching the El Paso-Pueblo County line, west of Interstate 25 near the Pikes Peak International Speedway. It was that portion of the fire that consumed several structures, including two homes, and resulted in at least 250 evacuations. It also ignited an enormous pile of discarded tires. Those tires are still burning as I write this, and evacuees from the immediate vicinity are not being permitted to return due to the dense smoke and toxic fumes emanating from the burning heap of rubber. According to one spokesperson, there are heavy metals in tires that, when there is "incomplete combustion," liberate toxic chemicals, especially cyanide. Terrific.

Fires in rural areas here also affect livestock, so accommodations have to be provided for evacuated horses, cattle, and other large animals, plus smaller pets. Colonel Fitch may have empathy for evacuees and those who lost their homes or other structures, and remorse or regret for how things went south, but if so it was not on display at the press conference on March 16. Instead, he asserted matter-of-factly that imminent deployments of personnel to Afghanistan and elsewhere necessitated employing live rounds during training. Meanwhile, the El Paso County Sheriff's office is the agency left holding the bag.

This is a fast-moving story, and now the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has taken over the extinguishing the tire fire and subsequent clean-up of the underlying soil contaminants resulting from the fire. Evacuees might be allowed to return today (Thursday, March 22), but no final call has been made.

It remains unclear among the myriad of agencies involved as to which ones will be deemed responsible for compensating for damages, or providing relief in other ways. The Red Cross did set up an evacuation center in Fountain, Colorado, and as usual the state fairgrounds in Pueblo offered shelter for livestock. Two other centers were established to receive smaller animals. What happens next?

An online petition is now circulating calling for the prohibition of live fire rounds on the Fort Carson base during red flag days of high or extreme fire danger. The petition has already secured over 2,000 signatures. The purpose of this petition should not be read as a desire to hamstring our military operations, but instead to insure the safety of both military and civilian personnel, and to limit the impact on precious fire-fighting resources that can be stretched thin given the outbreak of fires off the base.

No matter the jurisdiction, when it comes to fire prevention, everyone should be playing by the same rules. This is simply common sense, and would unite our diverse community instead of dividing it. The Front Range is a unique and complicated amalgamation of urban, rural, military, and wilderness landscapes. Establishing guidelines that respect those diverse interests, public or private, is not without its challenges, as we are learning from this unfortunate event. We need to come to the table and make some tough decisions before the fire next time.

Sprawl vs. Nature at Banning Lewis Ranch

What we have here is a failure to appreciate. The prairie presents an illusion of emptiness, giving license to unwitting abuse. It looks like a waste of space, Mother Nature's vacancy sign beckoning development. Indeed, how could it have any other value besides potential for human housing, shopping, and business?

A herd of Pronghorn near Jimmy Camp Creek Park, a parcel of the annexed Banning Lewis Ranch at the eastern edge of Colorado Springs

Vastness defines the landscape and the ecosystem. It quite literally cannot exist at a smaller scale. Sprawl, and industrialized agriculture, are killing it. Subdivisions and strip malls are poor replacements for prairie dog towns. Those rodent settlements foster far more diversity than any human equivalent. A prairie cannot even be properly grazed when it has been fragmented into disconnected patches. The deer and the Pronghorn can no longer play; and the bison? Long gone, unable to roam once highways divided the range. Heck, even the railroads spelled their doom.

Some summer day take a walk through the grass. Tall, short, or non-existent, it hides the truth of abundance. You will realize the very ground is alive, a blanket of grasshoppers, crickets, leafhoppers, beetles, ants, solitary bees and wasps, and flies. Horned Larks burst from beneath your feet to alight on barbed wire fences. Meadowlarks sing from the posts. Above them kingbirds perch on power lines and bare tree branches. Higher still soar Red-tailed and Swainson's Hawks and Golden Eagles. Mountain Plovers contradict their name, nesting in the middle of the nowhere plains.

What we have here is the failure of assumptions. We assume that the definition of progress is the erection of man-made structures, opportunities for acquisition of material goods, services, and personal financial wealth. The other side of that balance sheet is environmental health, ecological integrity, and the well-being of those people who value such things. Even if you do not count yourself among those who bird, or otherwise enjoy other living organisms, you are obligated to respect the rights of those who do.

Our collective civil liberties include the pursuit of intangibles, emotions, and fulfillment that cannot be quantified or even fully explained. How does one articulate the exhilaration of seeing a Prairie Falcon blazing across the sky? How do you measure the importance of personal or scientific discovery, such as spotting a Mexican Silverspot butterfly, never before seen in Colorado, or this far north of the Mexican border? That happened in Jimmy Camp Creek Park.

Mexican Silverspot butterfly

We have choices. We can choose to have a city of muscle, bone, and heart at its core, or a city fat with haphazard housing developments and shopping centers flung into the outskirts. It may seem the logical thing to do, adhere to the annexation-and-build model that every city seems to follow. It may even feel like a necessary action. Ah, but that is how an addict thinks.

Our city and county leaders may need rehab. Perhaps they need to be sent to Portland, Oregon, or some other municipality that has learned proper land use planning, worked diligently for public and private consensus, and actually allowed annexation to pay for itself, something that rarely happens. A flexible "urban growth boundary" may be in order to accommodate not just new residential neighborhoods, but local agriculture and wildlife corridors.

There is nothing that has yet been done with the Banning Lewis Ranch property that cannot be undone, but once you build there is no turning back. No recapturing the scenic views. No tearing up the roads, no calling back the birds, the bees, the Pronghorn. We must have all stakeholders at the table before we do anything more. We have to consider all potential solutions, all values. Maybe that means adding more land to Jimmy Camp Creek Park and Corral Bluffs Open Space. Perhaps the state could take over the property as a wildlife management area. Should cattle continue to graze there? What should be the role of local farmers? How do we manage the water? We need honest, open dialogue that includes more than elected officials and real estate developers. It will go a long way toward transparency and true democracy, toward a healthy human ecosystem.

Peace Officers

We have already had three law enforcement officers slain in Colorado this year. The latest casualty resulted from an incident roughly half a mile up the road from my home. A total of four officers were shot, one of them fatally, plus the suspect (also a fatality) and an innocent bystander. What I learned is that we cannot properly grieve for these tragedies any more.

© KKTV News 11

What does it say about our current culture that one of my first thoughts was that I hoped the deceased suspect wasn't Black? That was not a likely scenario, if only because we do not have a high population of African Americans here in Colorado Springs. I think our community suffers from that, a lack of visible diversity and the cultural richness and vibrancy that comes with it. I digress. The line between the good guys and the bad guys is not as readily defined in this day and age as it once was. We trust no one, like we are living in an episode of The X-files or something. Authority has lost our respect, and too often there is a corpse unable to prove its innocence.

Maybe it never really was clear cut. Back in the nineteen sixties and seventies, when I was just a kid, activists used epithets to refer to policemen: Pig. The Fuzz. Copper. Cop. The consensus seemed to be that the police force worked for "The Man," not for average, ordinary citizens. Moreover they were agents of oppression of both ethnic minorities and minority viewpoints that disagreed with "the establishment." Sound familiar? Today, Whites are more likely to consider abuses of lethal force against minority suspects as isolated instances instead of rampant racism and oppression, but Black Lives Matter and other movements would beg to differ.

Alas, the shootout up the street appears to have no such controversy. El Paso County Sheriff's Department and Colorado Springs Police Department were conducting an investigation of an auto theft when things turned violent. A stolen car. That was worth killing for? The shooter was a 19-year old male. He had his whole life ahead of him, even if he had been arrested. The slain officer who died, to the day, on the eleventh anniversary of his hiring, had his two twin children's lives to look forward to.

We are appalled, disgusted, and struggling to come to terms with this as a neighborhood and city and county. We need to have a short memory, yet are told to never forget. I have walked that stretch of street countless times, and now it will never be the same. It has never crossed my mind that but for the grace of God I could take an errant bullet. No one should be living with that fear. Anywhere.

The public trust in law enforcement at street level here seems relatively healthy, for now, but one gets the uneasy feeling that it could all come apart with one incident of questionable use of force, someone's phone video, or a peaceful demonstration met with officers in riot gear. I think the bottom line in any given scenario is that the one who is the aggressor will always be the bad guy. Most of the time that will be a criminal, but once in a while it will be someone in uniform.

There are no easy answers, but maybe we can start with language. We can choose to continue throwing around derogatory slang terms for the police, or we can look at a thesaurus, as I did just now, and see that the first synonym listed for police officer is peace officer. Say it with me. Say it out loud. It has a calming quality, does it not? When was the last time you heard the word peace at all? Have we given up on the notion, even in our daily lives, let alone in regards to world conflicts? Maybe we need hope officers, too.

It takes a special breed of human being to comprehend the potential confrontation of their own mortality on a daily basis, and still want to serve the public good in the name of peace and justice, with the goal of saving lives and preventing violence and crime. You and I may not be that kind of person, but we can lead by example, be peace officers of a different caliber. We can go beyond mere racial "tolerance" and accept everyone as equal. We can walk the streets confidently, unarmed, unafraid, and eager to help others in need. Be not the aggressor. Be like Micah Flick.

Strawberry Fields (and Hills) Forever?

Heidi and I had the privilege today of touring the parcel of land in western Colorado Springs, Colorado known legally as Strawberry Hills, and affectionately as "Strawberry Fields." This is the 189 acres destined to be transferred to the Broadmoor Hotel if a proposed land swap occurs between the City of Colorado Springs and that private corporation.

© Heidi Eaton

The tour was led by Rick Skorman, better known perhaps as the owner and founder of Poor Richard's, a series of adjacent downtown storefronts with a bookstore, coffee house, restaurant, and toy store.

© Heidi Eaton

Last week I wrote my opinion about the land exchange, and if anything my sentiments are stronger after traversing the meadow myself. I can only imagine what it would look like in spring and summer when wildflowers are in bloom, and the landscape greener. Here is a video of another tour, including some stunning overhead footage shot by a drone, and a bit of history.

There is precious little time for the public to make their case against this land swap. There have been many public "meetings," but citizens have had little time allotted to express their opinions at these gatherings. At least one more meeting will be held at Goldcamp Elementary School on Wednesday, March 30, at 6:00 PM.

© Heidi Eaton

Meanwhile, the best thing you can do is write, call, or e-mail the Mayor and City Council directly. Here is information for doing so:

• Andy Pico, District 6, (719) 385-5491, ApicoATspringsgov.com
• Bill Murray, At-Large, (719) 385-5485, bmurrayATspringsgov.com
• Don Knight, District 1, (719) 385-5487, DknightATspringsgov.com
• Helen Collins, District 4, (719) 385-5492, hcollinsATspringsgov.com
• Jill Gaebler, President Pro Tem, (719) 385-5483, JgaeblerATspringsgov.com
• Keith King, District 3, (719) 385-5470, KckingATspringsgov.com
• Larry Bagley, District 2, (719) 385-5493, lbagleyATspringsgov.com
• Merv Bennett, President, (719) 385-5469, MBennettATspringsgov.com
• Tom Strand, At-Large, (719) 385-5486, tstrandATspringsgov.com
• Mayor John Suthers, (719) 385-5900, jsuthersATspringsgov.com
• Entire City Council(?), (719) 385-5986, allCouncilATspringsgov.com

Remember to replace "AT" with the "@" symbol when e-mailing. It is especially critical that Mayor and Council hear from those residents who do not live near Strawberry Hills. There is a strong perception that no one else cares about this parcel of public land and we need to correct that assumption. Lastly, it might help to lobby the Parks and Recreation Advisory Board, which will ultimately vote on the proposal: (719) 385-5940, jkriskoATspringsgov.com.

© Heidi Eaton

Oh, I almost forgot. Your most up-to-date source of information about this ongoing saga is Save Cheyenne on Facebook.

This "deal," a product of premature action, in the absence of biological inventories, without channeling through the Planning Commission, and largely without public input or avenues for recourse, would set a terrible precedent if allowed to pass. Today it is Strawberry Hills. What will it be tomorrow?

Land Swapping in the Springs

A proposed land swap is in the works between the City of Colorado Springs and the Broadmoor Hotel. The following is my personal assessment of the deal based on my own experiences with the parties involved.

Full disclosure: I have been interacting with the City Parks department and Trails and Open Spaces Working Group to try and get a large parcel of land in my own neighborhood designated as an Open Space. I have found department personnel and committee members to be very receptive to citizen initiatives; and I have nothing but good things to say about them.

Unfortunately, I have no nice things to say about the Broadmoor, which is owned by the Anschutz Corporation, a large conglomerate headquartered in Denver. Since I have lived here, the Broadmoor has demonstrated nothing but arrogance, bullying, and whining when it doesn't get its way.

The company put its name on the World Arena, a venue for many entertainment acts and sports events. "World Arena" was a fine name all by itself, if you ask me, and everyone knew the Broadmoor before that publicity anyway.

The Broadmoor later exerted leverage to essentially turn the public Bear Creek Regional Park into its own private trail-riding club. The kicker here is that the Broadmoor already owns riding stables up on Cheyenne Mountain. Neighborhoods around Bear Creek fought back, and the idea has been tabled.

When the Broadmoor does not get what it wants, it often throws editorial temper-tantrums in the Colorado Springs Gazette, which....surprise, surprise, is also owned by the Anshutz Corporation. Gee, I wonder how critical that newspaper is going to be concerning the proposed land swap.

City and county officials paint a glowing picture of this land exchange proposal, consistently repeating how the City is getting more acreage than the Broadmoor wants in exchange, and at how the property being acquired is worth more than what is being sacrificed. We are assured that this will make all the trail connections seamless now, with any future extensions much easier to carry out with the new rights-of-way.

Were it not for the Friends of North Cheyenne Cañon, and the recently-created Save Cheyenne, we would not know what we stand to lose in this transaction. Locals know the 189-acre parcel slated to be turned over to the Broadmoor as "Strawberry Fields." I'd never heard of it, but many people who are long-time residents haven't, either. It may be the most scenic piece of real estate in the Front Range foothills, and perhaps the closest thing to true wilderness this close to the city.

Aside from my contempt for the Broadmoor, I have two additional concerns. The City puts an overwhelming emphasis on "active" recreation, which I prefer to call "speed recreation" since it mostly means trail runners and mountain bikers. One "perk" of the land swap being touted by the City is that the trade will still preserve access to Hully Gully, an ice-climbing route. The City would also get to finally claim the "Incline," a nearly mile-long, almost vertical (2,000 ft. elevation gain) staircase of railroad ties that is immensely popular with the athletic crowd.

What about those of us who like to hike leisurely, without being run over by runners or mountain bikers? In fairness, the majority of mountain bikers I have encountered are conscientious, and observant, and will stop if they see me taking pictures of a bird or something. Some are even genuinely interested in what caught my eye. Still, there are those blind curves where cyclist and pedestrian risk colliding. And then there is the erosion issue.

Lastly, I am unaware of any natural heritage inventory to inform us as to what may be compromised in terms of natural resources should this deal go through. The Broadmoor has thusfar not declared what developments will happen on the Strawberry Fields property, or where they would happen. There is the promise of a picnic shelter where the Parks Department can conduct fundraising events free of rental charges. The Broadmoor may or may not want stables and a riding arena. They will certainly build equestrian trails for their use only.

My bottom line is that I would really, really hate to see Strawberry Fields become yet another playground for the wealthy, forever closed to those who cannot afford to visit. Further, enacting this plan would continue the practice of the Mayor and City Council putting the interests of corporations and wealthy individuals ahead of the public good. You have a chance to make your own voice heard via an online response form at Speak Up! COS, but there is not a lot of latitude for "freestyle" comments, and you have to create an account to participate. Still, I recommend it.

Sources:Hazlehurst, John. 2016. "Broadmoor land swap proposal divides southwest neighborhood," The Colorado Springs Business Journal

Prospect Lake

I had dismissed Prospect Lake in Memorial Park as just another fake lake in the urban landscape, not worth my time if I wanted to find any wildlife other than Rock Pigeons or European Starlings. Thanks to a Facebook group for the Colorado Field Ornithologists, I found out my assumptions had no validity whatsoever.

About the middle of last month, posts to the group included sightings of the most improbable birds you could imagine: American Avocet, Mountain Bluebird, even American White Pelican. Grebes of at least four species were common. There were pictures of several species to back up the claims.

It is embarrassing to admit that Memorial Park is only about three miles from my home, near downtown Colorado Springs. Yes, Prospect Lake is a large, artificial reservoir, dutifully stocked with trout for fishermen, and with boat ramps to facilitate water skiing, but the water level is low right now, and the boathouse is not yet open for business. I should have paid closer attention.

American White Pelicans

After reading the posts to the ornithology group with my jaw on the floor, I decided I needed to see for myself all the bird diversity. Apparently, on April 19, I was one day too late for the midge hatch that had attracted the large number of birds the previous day. I was still impressed even so. The pelican flock was still there, plus more waterfowl and gulls than I could count. At one point I counted six Ospreys in the air at once. It was like they were lining up and taking turns at the trout….at least until the Bald Eagle showed up and frightened everybody else away.

The land that is now Memorial Park was donated to the city by General William Jackson Palmer in 1890. Prospect Lake was excavated shortly thereafter. Initially, the reservoir was used to supply water to the Evergreen Cemetery, but that need expired in 1950. The water that fills the lake is extracted from the nearby Fountain Creek, a local watershed. A Naval Reserve station occupied the southwest corner of the lake from the late 1940s until the late 1980s. Plans to turn the entire lake over to naval training exercises in 1950 were thwarted by locals who enjoyed recreating on the rest of the lake. The Colorado Springs Fire Department used the armory for training after naval training facilities moved to Fort Carson, but after 2001 all the buildings were abandoned and demolished.

The lake began losing water at a high rate in 2002 when the pipeline supplying the lake was shut off, a severe drought was happening, and the liner for the lake became torn. A movement to add Prospect Lake to the National Register of Historical Places was successful, and spurred action to replace the liner. The lake was refilled and again stocked with fish in 2005, and it remains a vibrant center of recreation today.

The lake is surrounded today by playgrounds, including the state-of-the-art “Swing High” totally accessible playground, plus lawns, ornamental pine, cottonwood, and other trees, ballfields, residential neighborhoods, and commercial real estate. Despite all the hustle and bustle, birds seem to enjoy the area, at least in migration this year.

My own trips to the park on April 21, 26, 27, and 29 yielded a combined tally of the following species:

1. Mallard
2. American Wigeon
3. Blue-winged Teal
4. Northern Shoveler
   
   Northern Shovelers
5. Lesser Scaup
6. Redhead
7. Bufflehead
8. Ruddy Duck
9. Canada Goose
10. American Coot
11. Pied-billed Grebe
12. Horned Grebe
13. Eared Grebe
14. Western Grebe
    
    Western Grebe
15. Clark’s Grebe
16. Double-crested Cormorant
17. American White Pelican
18. Ring-billed Gull
19. California Gull
20. Franklin’s Gull
21. Osprey
22. Bald Eagle
23. Cooper’s Hawk
24. Great Blue Heron
25. Great Egret
26. Killdeer
27. American Avocet
    
    American Avocets
28. Spotted Sandpiper
29. Lesser Yellowlegs
30. Willet
31. Wilson’s Phalarope
32. Rock Pigeon
33. Belted Kingfisher
34. Downy Woodpecker
35. Northern Flicker
36. Tree Swallow
37. Violet-green Swallow
38. Say’s Phoebe
39. American Robin
40. American Pipit
41. American Crow
    
    Osprey
42. Black-capped Chickadee
43. White-breasted Nuthatch (heard)
44. Yellow-rumped Warbler
45. European Starling
46. Common Grackle
47. Brown-headed Cowbird
48. House Sparrow
49. Chipping Sparrow
50. Lark Sparrow
51. Savannah Sparrow
52. Dark-eyed Junco
53. House Finch

I am a novice birder, and I know other species were seen, and have been seen since. Warblers, for example, are only now starting to appear. It just goes to show that you can still be surprised by nature close to home. Really, really close to home.

Sources: Galas, Judith, and Cindy West. 1997. Walking Colorado Springs. Helena, Montana: Falcon Guides (Pequot Press). 233 pp.
Tankersley, Teila. 2010. “Some Interesting Pieces of Trivia on Prospect Lake in Colorado Springs,” Fresh Ink

Indelible

A funny thing happened the other day on my way to taking winter snow images in Garden of the Gods park here in Colorado Springs. Just as I settled into position for a great scenic shot of Pikes Peak between two rock formations, a commercial jet arced over the mountain, dead center, leaving a bright contrail in its wake.

Timing really is everything in a case like this. Had I gotten my butt on the road even a few minutes earlier, the morning light would have been even better, and there would have been no ugly airline graffiti. I am sure the navigator aboard the aircraft would argue the plane was not at all “misplaced,” but I would beg to differ, from my vantage point on terra firma.

I pride myself on not retouching any of my images with digital software like Photoshop or GIMP, and I am still debating on whether to bother in this case. People viewing a manipulated image would never know the contrail was there, but no matter what I do to obscure or erase the “defect,” I would still know. I literally “can’t un-see that!” It will always be an indelible vapor trail in the landscape of my mind.

That is what really bothers me, I think. Any time afield, no matter what the results, is time well spent, but a true wilderness experience is getting harder and harder to come by. It is nearly impossible to avoid litter of some kind, and then there are those planes. I have to wonder how many flights I have been on that spoiled someone else’s photographic souvenirs 30,000 feet below me.

Yesterday I walked the dog around our complex of townhouses, just after another snowfall. Ours were the first footprints, even on the sidewalk. I have to admit it was both exciting to be a momentary pioneer, and disappointing to spoil the pristine cover of white.

Sinton Pond Open Space

Wetlands here in El Paso County, Colorado are few and far between. Consequently, a handful of artificial lakes have been created for recreation and wildlife. One of the more interesting of these is Sinton Pond Open Space in Colorado Springs

At only thirteen acres, the property actually consists of two ponds. The larger, an impoundment of a natural spring, is full of small freshwater sunfish, and possibly other species as well. Above the big pond is a smaller one, likewise with a few fish, but with more emergent vegetation and better shaded by large cottonwood trees. Here’s a view of that smaller pond. The property abuts Sinton Dairy, which is what you see in the background.

Sinton Pond is pretty much surrounded by industrial enterprises and at least one office park , yet it is a magnet for birds, insects, reptiles, amphibians, and mammals. You also get a nice view of Pikes Peak during the winter months when foliage on the cottonwoods doesn’t hide the mountain.

Since I could find next to nothing on the history of Sinton Pond, I’ll concentrate on the diversity of animal life you can find there. Birdwatchers won’t be disappointed as there are many birds that utilize the pond and the surrounding landscape for feeding and nesting. We found this family of Mallard ducks on one trip there.

With the help of a crow or raven I managed to spy a Great Horned Owl on my most recent visit. One of my scenic shots has a falcon in the distance, too….

Reptiles and amphibians are pretty prolific, too. I nearly stepped on this Western Terrestrial Garter Snake as it sunned beside the trail near Monument Creek, which flows right by the pond.

Both the native Painted Turtle and the non-native Red-eared Slider can be seen basking on logs or other debris in the big pond, especially in the morning.

I was thrilled to find a Northern Leopard Frog on my latest trip, seeking refuge from the hot sun beneath a tangle of brush along the margin of the big pond. Leopard frogs have not fared very well because of drought and the increasing populations of the Bullfrog.

Naturally, I am looking mostly for insects, and there is no shortage. Many butterflies find abundant flower nectar and larval foodplants in the area. I was surprised to find a Questionmark butterfly on June 8, and even more surprised to find it was still there as of July 20! I was downright shocked to glimpse a Giant Swallowtail, also on June 8, though I don’t have a picture to prove it.

The Monarch finds plenty of milkweed here, and a variety of skippers can be seen on almost any visit. There are open areas of varying quality in terms of vegetation, and shady groves of spruce and other trees, and different butterflies prefer different degrees of sun and cover.

Any wetland is likely to attract dragonflies and damselflies, and there is indeed a good variety of odonates here. Big darners (family Aeschnidae) are constantly on the wing, while skimmers (family Libellulidae) of all sorts perch and patrol the shore and adjacent fields. Vivid Dancers, bluets, and forktail damselflies can be found by the score.

I recommend Sinton Pond Open Space to both residents of Colorado Springs and visitors as a place to enjoy hiking, walking, biking, fishing, or just plain relaxing. The site gets a fair amount of traffic (no pun intended, despite the fact that Interstate 25 is about one block to the west and a major rail line about a block to the south), but it is still a relatively quiet place for contemplation and peaceful enjoyment.

Spider Sunday (via "Bug Eric"): Stovetop Spider

Talk about a sense of misplaced. I was making a sandwich for lunch the other day when I was abruptly distracted by an arachnid on the stove. It was mildly startling, but my first thought was “What is that?” My first suspect was a running crab spider in the genus Thanatus, but something wasn’t quite right. I didn’t have my reading glasses handy, so naturally I reached for my camera.

I snapped an image, zoomed in on it, and knew immediately that this was a lynx spider in the family Oxyopidae, genus Oxyopes. The battery of long spines on each leg helps differentiate lynx spiders from similar-looking spiders in other families. So does the arrangement of the eyes. How this one got inside I have no idea, though I remember seeing one right outside the back door last fall….

Unless this specimen represents a new species, or a significant range extension for a known one, then it must be the Western Lynx Spider, Oxyopes scalaris. They very grizzled (mottled gray) appearance is one in a dizzying array of color patterns exhibited by this species, which ranges from southern Canada to Mexico, and coast to coast. It is most common in the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific coast states. It is downright scarce in the Great Plains, perhaps owing to its preference for woody shrubs and trees.

The Western Lynx Spider is not terribly large, mature females measuring 5.8-9.6 millimeters in body length. Males range from 4.7-6.1 millimeters.

In some parts of its range, O. scalaris can be found principally in pine trees in pinyon-juniper woodlands. Elsewhere, it is associated with sagebrush habitat, chaparral, or deciduous forests. Mine may be the first specimen recorded on a burner, and it was kind of scary how well it blended in with the rust spots.

The Western Lynx Spider is an ambush hunter, sitting patiently on stems or leaves and waiting for potential prey to come within striking range. Despite their small size, the spider’s eyes are very adept at detecting motion, and most insects that venture near don’t stand a chance against the arachnid’s lightning-fast reflexes. The hapless victim is quickly seized by the spider’s first two pairs of legs. Those long spines help ensure there is no escape. At night, the spiders protect themselves from their own predators by suspending themselves from foliage on a silken line, snoozing in mid-air.

The life cycle of this species is fairly well known, but there is little about it that is spectacular. Mating is a brief affair lasting only a few seconds. Records of egg cases are uncommon, but one sac contained 45 embryos. The egg sac is produced in early to mid-summer, securely fastened to a plant, and is guarded by the female until the spiderlings hatch. This species overwinters in older immature stages.

Clearly, my kitchen-inhabiting spider was outside of its comfort zone, not at home, home on the (Radar) range. I bottled it in a vial and released it a day later in a nearby field filled with grasses, yucca, and scattered elm trees. I sincerely hope it feels more comfortable there, secures regular meals, and reproduces.

Sources: Brady, Allen R. 1964. “The Lynx Spiders of North America North of Mexico (Araneae; Oxyopidae),” Bull. Mus. Comp. Zool. 131(13): 429-518.
Cutler, B., D.T. Jennings, and M.J. Moody. 1977. “Biology and Habitats of the Lynx Spider Oxyopes scalaris (Araneae: Oxyopidae),” Ent. News 88: 87-97.

The Waldo Canyon Fire

I am still in relative shock and denial over what is going on just across town here in Colorado Springs. We are facing a wildfire that threatens the entire northwest quadrant of the city, plus the Air Force Academy, Monument, Palmer Lake, Manitou Springs (where Heidi and I were wed), Woodland Park, and several other small communities. All of those locations have either been evacuated or face imminent evacuation as I write this. A total of more than 32,000 citizens have been displaced so far.

The images here are from late Sunday morning, June 24, when the fire was just a tiny, reasonably tame thing. It has since ballooned into a monster, especially as of Tuesday afternoon, June 26. That is when a thunderstorm to the northeast of the fire produced an “outflow” of air that changed the wind direction and intensity. A sixty-five mile per hour gust drove the flames into Queens Canyon, funneling the fire right into the subdivision of Mountain Shadows. The aftermath has revealed many homes and other structures destroyed.

I feel strangely detached, having moved here only last October. Still, I do know some people who have been evacuated. Heidi, my wife, knows far more and is devastated emotionally. Physically we are fine, though we have simultaneously experienced a record-setting heat wave here that finally broke today. The air quality ranges from tolerable to heinous, depending on the wind direction. I itch all over and haven’t worn my contact lenses for two straight days. It is useless, if not downright idiotic, to go outside if you don’t have to.

Many places I have been visiting in search of wildlife and wildflowers are either closed, threatened by the fire, or already burned. City bus service was suspended today. The television is, understandably, non-stop news reports on the fire, those fighting it, and those affected by it. This is my reality right now, with no end in sight. The fire remains only five percent contained. Officials predict it will be at least the middle of July before it is fully contained. We are hoping the annual monsoon storms are on time, if not a little early.

Colorado Springs is one of the top ten cities in the nation for “urban-wildland interface,” making us extremely vulnerable to disasters like this. Now, if rain does come, there is nothing to absorb it. We will face flash floods as a result. Meanwhile, thunderstorms devoid of rain threaten to fan the flames with more wind gusts, and/or spark more fires with dry lightning.

Those inquiring about our safety (Heidi and myself), and the condition of the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo will be relieved to know that our residence is on the east side of town, south of the fire; and that the zoo is also far south of the blaze. Firefighters are unyielding in shielding the south side of highway 24 from the fire. Should it jump that roadway (which is currently closed to all traffic but emergency vehicles between here and Woodland Park), all bets are off.

Interstate 25 marks the eastern boundary of the fire so far, and indeed it has not reached that freeway. Assuming the grasslands of the high plains are as equally flame-prone as the drought-stressed forests, then we need to keep the fire at bay along that boundary as well.

We, as a city, county, and state, appreciate the empathy and sentiments expressed from around the rest of the country. We return those thoughts to those facing catastrophic excesses of rain from tropical storms and thundershowers (Florida and Minnesota). I’ll keep you appraised as best I can on the situation here as it unfolds.

Nature, red in tooth and claw

That phrase from Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem In Memoriam A.H.H., published in 1850, certainly communicates the frequently savage nature of….nature. These days, however, we do not want to be confronted with the reality of predator and prey. I found that out last week while at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo here in Colorado Springs. The shocking carnage took place outside of cages and enclosures, which was perhaps even more surprising to zoo guests.

I was on my way back to my wife’s building, Primate World, when I encountered what I thought were three screaming Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels racing down the hill right toward me. They veered off down another path. My initial thought was that I had no idea ground squirrels were that territorial. Then I saw the last one in line. It was not another ground squirrel. It was an adult Long-tailed Weasel, Mustela frenata. My jaw dropped. A zoo staffer grinned and said “That was a weasel. He wants him some chipmunk!” I told him I noticed that, but didn’t correct his identification of the prey.

One of the ground squirrels had the smarts to sit down right at the intersection of all three paved trails, literally plastering itself to the asphalt. I looked down the other path and noticed the chase was still in progress. I ran after them, hoping my camera had just enough battery life to eke out another picture.

By the time I caught up to the weasel, it had caught up with the ground squirrel, seizing it by the throat in front of several astonished members of the public. A mother and son encroached right on the predator and its victim. The son actually kicked the weasel, apparently hoping to save the doomed squirrel. I pushed him away, but must have looked like a crazed member of the paparazzi myself, frantically trying to focus my camera on the unfolding drama.

The weasel, unfazed by any of this, ran back uphill, maybe right between my legs, before aborting his trip and diving into a crevice in a rock retaining wall. All I got was a blurry image of weasel rear (see below).

I was forced to remember my initial purpose of borrowing batteries from my wife, and headed back again toward her building. Along the way I met with a horrific scene by any standards. Yet another ground squirrel was barely twitching in the middle of the path, with an enormous bloodstain behind it, quickly evaporating in the late morning heat. Parents were mortified and tried to find a zoo staff person to clean up the crime scene.

Once I got batteries, I headed back out, and optimistically surmised the weasel might come back for the ground squirrel it left for dead. I was right, but zoo guests had surrounded the now-deceased rodent to “protect” it from the weasel.

I found it mostly useless to pontificate on the fact that this is how nature works. At least one person agreed, but even he defended those who did not want their children to witness such brutality.

”Oh, no, Al-vin-n-n-n-n!” mocked one adult.

Well, there was one problem right there. Most people mistake Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels for chipmunks. I honestly can’t blame them in this case because these were young squirrels, not much, if any, larger than a chipmunk. Adult GMGSs are substantially larger than their similarly-striped cousins.

Before I continue, I must admit that there are animals I don’t like much, either, namely crocodilians, lions, and praying mantids. Watch any television nature program about those creatures, and the graphic scenes of predation are the only scenes. It amounts to unintentional propaganda against predators that makes us feel sorry for the prey. Still, I am well aware of the necessity of these apex predators to the health of an ecosystem. I don’t know that your average person is equally attuned.

Most people never get to see a weasel. Until now, I was under the impression they were extremely secretive animals you barely got a glimpse of….if you were lucky. Not one other person I encountered during and after the events I’ve described felt the same way. At least they did not communicate that emotion. My good luck wasn’t over, either. While the others stood guard over the “chipmunk,” I noticed the weasel had returned, threading its way through human legs and diving down a burrow on the other side of the split rail fence. I decided it was bound to come out again.

A crew of two came and unceremoniously disposed of the GMGS, and the party of bystanders broke up. I was about to give up on the prospect of the weasel ever surfacing again when….Voila! Up it popped with yet another ground squirrel in tow. It paused at the mouth of the tunnel allowing me to fire off a few shots with my camera as it licked the bloody throat of this latest victim. Eventually it grabbed the squirrel and dashed back across the path and bounded up the rocky slope above, eventually disappearing. By now I had understood that the weasel was either caching its kills or feeding its offspring, or both.

The weasel actually came back again, dragging out another carcass, but that was the last I saw of it.

So much for a “teachable moment.” Apparently parents, when given a choice, will shield their children from reality. I wonder if these same mothers and fathers will let their kids play videogames with explicit human-killing-human violence.

I won’t let the zoo off the hook on this one, either. The folks who picked up the ground squirrel were robbing the weasel of its prey. They were robbing zoo guests of a quick lesson in ecology. This is at least the second time such a drama between weasel and ground squirrel has played out at the zoo recently. No mention on the zoo’s blog. Lots of neat recipes, though. No interpretive signs explaining the Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel is not a chipmunk….and that guests should probably not be sharing their food with those rodents.

What opinions do you have? Should a zoo “sanitize” the visitor experience? How do we reach people in a way that does not insult their intelligence, but also doesn’t shy away from the hard truths of how nature works? I’m eager to have a discussion here and look forward to your comments and exchanges with one another.

Red Rock Canyon Open Space

Almost everyone has heard of Garden of the Gods, a city park in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Just a few blocks to the south is its poor, neglected stepsister, Red Rock Canyon Open Space. I had the pleasure of hiking in this 787-acre park last Monday, March 5.

I did not even need a car to get there. Mountain Metropolitan Transit has regular bus service (Route 3) that gets you within easy walking distance. Ok, so you do have to cross a busy highway….but it is worth the exercise, fuel savings, and hassle of driving yourself. There is ample parking for those who do take personal vehicles, though.

I was a bit unnerved when I immediately encountered this

right outside the Port-o-Let. Coyotes, bears, bobcats, and the odd mountain lion are not unheard of in these parts, but no large carnivores, sasquatch, or mountain men were found inside said bathroom facility, so I breathed a little easier after that.

This is a popular park for walking your dog (it has an off-leash area), jogging, mountain biking (it features fenced-off “freeride/skills park” with challenging jumps, ladder-drops, and a teeter-totter), rock climbing, and hiking. You are going to run into many other recreational users any day you visit Red Rock Canyon, so don’t expect to have the place to yourself. Keep in mind the sandstone ridges also amplify, echo, and broadcast your voice. Even a fairly quiet conversation can be heard halfway across the park.

I did manage to avoid many other hikers by heading down the most northerly trail that eventually takes you into a narrow arroyo. At one point sheer slabs of red sandstone erupt from the streambed.

The canyon is deep enough that some if it remains in constant shadow at this time of year. Snow was only beginning to melt in some stretches. The trickle of water was enough to attract butterflies on this warm (68°Fahrenheit) day. Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa) and Hoary Comma (Polygonia gracilis, below) overwinter as adult insects, and they frolic on days like this.

There is plenty of bird life to be seen here as well. I observed the usual Black-capped Chickadee, Northern Flicker, Downy Woodpecker, American Robin, White-breasted Nuthatch, Black-billed Magpie, Western Scrub-jay, American Crow, and Dark-eyed Junco, but also a Townsend’s Solitaire and Spotted Towhee. The real treat was seeing a Great Horned Owl in flight, being pursued by every jay in approximately a two hundred mile radius.

The history of the park dates to between 70 million and 300 million years if you consider the geologic and fossil timetables. Depending on which of the formations you explore, you could conceivably find anything from fossil leaf prints to dinosaur tracks to prehistoric shark teeth (Milito, 2009).

Human occupation is evident from about 7,000 BC. The proximity of the area to Fountain Creek meant there was good hunting. Utes were the Native Americans who found the rock formations (called “hogbacks”) made a natural fortress. Fast forward to the late 1800s, and the area was exploited for raw material used in the construction of Old Colorado City. The Kenmuir Quarry was perhaps the largest operator, cutting huge blocks of Lyons sandstone for a nearly nationwide demand (Ellis, Don). The scars still remain, of course, and Manitou Springs and Denver are among the nearby recipients of the quarried stone.

There were also gypsum mines here; and two mills that processed gold ore mined in Cripple Creek from 1886 into the early 1900s. John George Bock began purchasing the property in pieces during the 1920s and 1930s, willing it to his sons upon his death. The family had intended to develop a convention center, golf course, and high-rise buildings, but ultimately managed a couple dozen trailer parks, two gravel quarries, and a 53-acre landfill.

Only very recently did this heavily industrialized site become a recreational resource for the Springs, having been purchased by the city in 2003. The landfill remains off limits to the public. Not so the steep cliffs, where one is allowed to climb with permits. At least two parties were actively ascending bolted sort climbs during my visit.

There is good signage throughout the park, but one still has to be careful of veering off on “social trails.” These impromptu trails are unofficial and can get one lost if they are not paying attention. Interpretive signs at the parking lots and major features give one a glimpse of the human and natural history of the area. Overall, the park is well-maintained and remarkably free of litter. Even most of the scat I encountered was from native mammals, not domestic canines.

Oh, you’d still rather see Garden of the Gods? No problem. There are spectacular views of those hogbacks from Red Rock Canyon.

I look forward to returning to this park repeatedly. There is permanent water in the old gravel pits, which is a scarce commodity for wildlife. I saw a couple Mallards dabbling in one of the ponds on Monday, and suspect there will be frogs, dragonflies, and other aquatic life come spring.

Meanwhile, there are enough trails to give one weeks of enjoyment, depending on how far you wish to wander, with scenic views galore and a variety of habitats to explore. Do come visit, just don’t forget your sunscreen like I did.

Sources: Milito, Sharon. 2009. “A Survey of Fossils and Geology of Red Rock Canyon Open Space, Colorado Springs, Colorado,” The Mountain Geologist vol. 47 no. 1: 1-14.
”Red Rock Canyon Open Space,” City of Colorado Springs, 2009.
Ellis, Don. ”The Red Rock Quarries,” Friends of Red Rock Canyon, p. 25

Leap Day 2012

February twenty-ninth comes around only once every four years, so we should probably make the most of the “extra” day. As luck would have it, the weather was just gorgeous here in Colorado Springs. The high for the day was 58° F, with occasional light breezes. I decided to explore one of the urban trails and was glad I did.

Murray Boulevard runs north and south in front of my apartment complex, and I can walk south for about a mile when it intersects the Homestead Trail paralleling the west fork of Sand Creek. Sand Creek is dry most of the year, and much of it is channelized, but wildlife seems to like it anyway. One of the first birds I saw when I set foot on the trail was a new one for me: a Townsend’s Solitaire. I thought it was some kind of flycatcher, but Jeffrey Gordon, President of the American Birding Association, was kind enough to correct me from the image (below) I e-mailed to him.

The Homestead Trail is short, and soon intersects the Rock Island Trail at Constitution Avenue. Here is the view you get looking west down the Rock Island Trail. Pretty nice, eh? Yes, that is Pike’s Peak in the background.

Most of the trails in the city are paved, in order to better accommodate bicycles, runners, and the handicapped. Many people also use the broad paths to walk their dogs. Where trails intersect streets, there are usually underpasses for pedestrians so that one does not have to cross traffic. The traffic signals also tend to be unusually long, so the underpasses help you maintain your pace and momentum.

The warm weather made for some surprising entomological encounters. I stopped to photograph a plant, and heard the unmistakable sound of a grasshopper making a crepitation flight. Certain adult grasshoppers can generate in-flight noise at will. The sound has a crackling quality and is easily audible, sometimes downright loud. It took me awhile, but I finally tracked down one of these insects. It turned out to be the Speckle-winged Rangeland Grasshopper, Arphia conspersa. Here are a pair of males:

Back in November I had seen nymphs of this species. I wasn’t expecting to see adults until April or so. Maybe this mild winter has accelerated their metamorphosis. I also was shocked to see adult Podalonia wasps out looking for cutworm caterpillars already. One was digging a burrow, which means she had already secured her prey and stashed it somewhere.

Spiders were also on the prowl. I spied a ground crab spider (Xysticus sp., family Thomisidae), and a running crab spider (Thanatus sp., family Philodromidae) scouring the surface of the soil for potential prey.

Beetles, too, were out and about. A Eusattus darkling beetle was scrounging for detritus, while nearby a tiny ground beetle (Carabidae family) was struggling to negotiate the shifting, sandy soil to get out of my footprint.

Going west, the Rock Island Trail eventually dead-ends at the Shooks Run Trail. As one approaches that point, the Rock Island Trail enters a heavily industrialized brownfield area frequented by the homeless (and a melanic squirrel, see below).

The Shooks Run Trail travels south, and meanders through the “Old North End” of Colorado Springs. This is an eclectic mix of old homes, new homes, and periodic commercial enterprises. Imagine my surprise at coming upon an antiquarian bookstore, right off the trail! I was delighted to find Doug Clausen, the proprietor of Clausen Books, to be friendly, informative, and, most importantly, negotiable. I left with a collection of small entomology books for a pittance. I’ll be back.

Farther down the trail I happened upon Dog Tooth Coffee. How sweet is that? A bookstore and a coffee house? Heaven. I left Dog Tooth with a mocha “Snow Dog,” one of those blended ice drinks with lots of calories.

Just behind the coffee house was a cohousing community called Casa Verde Commons. This unique, tiny neighborhood features a wonderful community garden, among other sustainable attributes. I am pleased to see that Colorado Springs has such innovative social enterprises.

Next week the weather is supposed to be even warmer, so I will have to find other trails to follow; or go back down these. Here’s to you finding your own paths of discovery in the coming weeks and months.