faulker015

Just over two weeks ago, the first snowstorm and the first hard freeze of the season descended on the Colorado Front Range, putting an end to autumn for 48 hours.  Though many of the colorful leaves were taken down by the wind and snow, the temperature rapidly rebounded, the snow melted and we have enjoyed summer-like warmth ever since.  Of course, the longer nights produce chilly mornings but afternoon highs have been in the mid 60s to mid 70s (F). Yesterday, another cold front pushed southward across Colorado, bringing a raw day with intermittent showers.  Overnight, that rain changed to snow and it continues this morning, with minimal accumulation; by this afternoon, the sun will return and the snow will disappear.  Mild conditions are expected for the next week, though temperatures will be more autumn-like. Once again, winter will retreat northward but it will continue making incursions into the Heartland.  While its grip will likely solidify across the Midw...

Watching a film set in Cape Town, South Africa, today, I wondered about the geology of Table Mountain, which looms above the city.  As is often the case, the natural history of that famous massif is complex. About 500 million years ago, during the Cambrian Period, a rift valley developed in the southern portion of a continental plate that included today's Continents of South America, Antarctica and Africa.  Initially flooded by a shallow sea, the rift accumulated sediments over the next 100 million years.  Throughout the late Paleozoic and early Mesozoic Eras, this region was folded, lifted and eroded by tectonic forces as Earth's Continents merged into Pangea and then rifted apart. Among the sedimentary rocks that formed within the ancient rift valley was a thick layer of hard quartzite sandstone; resistant to erosion, this Table Mountain Sandstone now outcrops as the steep cliffs of Table Mountain and the Cape Fold Ranges of western South Africa.  Of note, the west...

On this cool, sunny morning along the Colorado Front Range, I visited South Platte Park.  There I encountered a good variety of waterfowl, including the first common goldeneye of the season; the attractive male was fishing by himself on the clear waters of Eaglewatch Lake.  I was also fortunate to observe a lone osprey, perhaps the last one I will see at the Park this year. Common goldeneyes breed across Alaska and Canada and winter primarily in coastal areas of the Pacific Northwest, the Canadian Maritimes, New England and the mid Atlantic Region.  Though less common, others winter on lakes across most of the U.S. and at least a few dozen spend the colder months at South Platte Park, feasting on a wide variety of aquatic creatures, from invertebrates to crustaceans and small fish. Ospreys, on the other hand, are summer residents here and a pair have been nesting at the Park in recent years.  More common along the North American coasts, in the Pacific Northwest and i...

Those who write, especially those who compose fiction, essays or poetry, know that it is a difficult task; indeed, finding the right words or selecting content that is both interesting and inspiring can be frustrating.  However, I have found that writing is a therapeutic process, forcing the author to confront their own experience, beliefs and biases. Telling a story or persuading readers is more than an intellectual endeavor, it is an emotional one.  While all humans, consciously or subconsciously, attempt to bury life events that were especially painful, embarrassing or emotionally-charged, writers must actually draw on such experiences to make their content "real" for those who consume it.  Though their work may not be autobiographical, it is always infused with their own thoughts, emotions, convictions and insecurities. Writers certainly understand these points and most would admit that the writing process is essential to their sense of well-being.  Many psycholo...

A great horned owl was hooting outside our bedroom window last night, the first calls I have heard this season.  Like a town crier with an important message, he seemed to be warning the locals that, despite our current mild weather, winter is on the doorstep. Of course, this vocal fellow was merely responding to his own hormones, unleashed by the waning period of daylight; the long, chilly nights are good for hunting and his mating season is fast approaching.  At this point, in mid autumn, he is just announcing his presence and his target is not the human ear. No doubt, his hooting (and that of his eventual mate) will increase in the coming months.  Unfazed by frigid nights and heavy snow, he will relish the dark, quiet season of nature's year.

When I hear someone say that they have no regrets in their life, I tend to be skeptical.  After all, regret, whether major or minor, is part of human nature, a product of our large, complex brains.  Prone to ruminate, we often regret past decisions, actions or comments, whether justified or not. This tendency to live in our past often makes us less happy in the present.  Judging ourself through the prism of hindsight, we are not always fair-minded, having buried the context in which past choices were made; neither do we always acknowledge the benefits that arose from those actions.  It's one thing to regret having made an insensitive remark and quite another to regret major life decisions. Unfortunately, we are not always honest or reasonable when we review our past; whether we admit it or not, we all harbor regrets.  The real issue, it seems to me, is whether we let those regrets impact our current happiness and relationships.

Here on our Littleton, Colorado, farm, I do not bother raking the leaves.  While we have a large number of deciduous trees and shrubs, I'm inclined to let nature handle their autumn debris.  Besides, it can be entertaining, watching the leaf armies race across our driveway and "lawns." In this semiarid climate, the leaves rarely get bogged down by precipitation; they may be stabilized by a snowfall for a day or two but the intense Colorado sun rapidly frees them to rustle across the landscape once again.  Eventually, the armies settle down beneath the shrub lines and wood borders, providing fertilizer for next spring's growth. It's a win-win situation.  Entertainment and no work for me and natural nutrients for our trees and shrubs.  The mounded leaves also offer winter protection for many invertebrates, at least until they are discovered by the birds, mice, raccoons and skunks that visit the farm.