It’s fall already on the tundra, where most of the alpine flowers have disappeared: the blue forget-me-nots, the pink phlox, the cheery yellow sunflowers. What’s left of life at 10,000 feet are hillsides of white cottony seedheads, glowing in the sunlight, and a few animals.
In a small rockpile on the Ute Trail in Rocky Mountain National Park, the pikas (below) are frantically gathering more grasses to store up for the long winter. Meanwhile, the marmots (below, right), already fattened up for their eight months of hibernation, are relaxing on the boulders, soaking up the last of the warm sunlight before the snows come—any day now.
But here on the the dried out, bronze tundra, one species of flower is not daunted by the coming of winter. For reasons unknown to me, the arctic gentian (above) has chosen to bloom at the tail end of the growing season. Because its colors are muted, most people don’t notice this small white flower with forked green tendrils, glowing among the decaying plants. But once I see one, I start seeing them everywhere.
At the cabin, the lushness of mid-summer has faded, as the fields are being drained of color. The purple asters are pale and tattered remnants of their earlier glorious selves. Even the yellow sulphur flowers, which have hung on for months, are going to seed. Petals from the yellow and red blanketflowers litter the ground.
Now is when the blue gentian, cousin to the arctic gentian, shines. Like its higher-altitude relative, the blue gentian makes its appearance when all the other flowers are dying. But unlike the arctic gentian, this blue one can’t be missed. Amid the decay of summer’s end, the blue gentians are stunning, blazing a darker blue than the Colorado sky.
They are life itself—brave, insistent and almost reckless as they arrive now. Already the nights are cold, and the first frost could come at any time. And yet they are not daunted. The gentians are like the pasqueflowers of spring, flowering while the snow still flies and the ground is hard and cold,
When I look to the natural world for sustenance and inspiration, I’m always replenished.