1. At Wild Basin, the snow is melting and exposing the boulders and dark water in St. Vrain Creek. The thawing leaves behind strange, beautiful forms. This one reminds me of something from the sea, maybe several dolphins momentarily halted by this still partly frozen world .
2. Kinnikinick (right) stays green all winter, but when the sun starts to get higher in the sky and the air temperature goes up a few degrees, this ground plant turns a deeper green, spreading itself across the pale rocks and providing a little color to the still mostly brown landscape. In a few weeks, its flowers will appear--small, pink and bell-shaped.
3. The chipmunks and ground squirrels have emerged from their dens. Last week, I was greeted by a ground squirrel that had taken up its customary position on my deck, sprawling across the wood, as if the first thing it wanted to do after emerging from underground, where it had been sleeping for six months, was relax in the sun. I felt the same way.
Every summer I sit with my feet up on the bench, entertained and fascinated by these thoughtful and playful animals, even when they are trying to drink my wine or water, as one did a few years ago (left).
4. As the ice melts in St. Vrain Creek, these round holes appear, giving a glimpse of what lies below: an assortment of varied-color rocks. I've never understood why the melting creates round holes. This must be a rule of nature that I would understand if I were a scientist. Since I'm not, I can only peek into its depths.
5. Objects start emerging from the snow, standing out in this white landscape, like this old water pump (left) and a very young ponderosa tree (below).
6. Hammocks (below) start to appear. Sure, there's still two feet of snow on the ground and the creek is partly frozen. But hammockers have been waiting all winter and can't wait a minute longer. Just string the ends between two trees, listen to the creek murmuring and the wind—and relax. Ahh. Summer must be just around the corner.