Finding my Bliss in the San Luis Valley

 Remember that time I ran away to Nebraska for a little Sandhill Crane viewing and photography? That was a year ago which means the cranes are on their way migratory way back north again right now.

I did consider going back to Nebraska... but as much as I loved Nebraska, it's people and especially the rolling hills and Platte River Valley geography, there were compelling reasons to stick to Colorado this trip. (The political climate seems like one of them but trust me when I say the area of CO I planned to visit is not so different, politically. It was one of those few occasions where I had to just suck it up, Buttercup!)

The lesson being you need to be very specific about what you wish for!

It had already been a long work day and spectacular night of high end Italian food at Osteria Marco, followed by great seats at the Colorado Ballet's performance of Alice in Wonderland, when I slipped out of my dress and heels under the cover of darkness in the DCPA's parking lot and into driving/sleeping/bird watching clothes at 10pm. (I never claimed to be refined.) 

Then I started the 4 hour drive to Monte Vista in the San Luis Valley. 

In all fairness, I never actually intended to drive 4 hours in the dark. I'm a morning person and I knew that within a couple of hours, I'd be too tired to drive safely. There was an inflatable camp mattress and sleeping bag already set up in the back of the 4runner and just after midnight I pulled into the most lovely designated rest area near Colorado City, installed my insulated window covers and called it a night. My alarm was set for 4:50am - and the plan was to be at the Monte Vista Wildlife Refuge for sunrise at 7:15am.

At 6am I was cresting La Veta Pass. Light snow was flying through the air and swirling on the road. In the darkness, the full moon passed beams through the glitter and I was overjoyed with my good fortune to be there. It was going to be a good weekend!

Not sure how, since I had the vaguest of plans to "find a good place at the refuge", but I pulled into an almost empty parking lot labeled 'Field View' and found myself staring at thousands of squawking cranes. (Just lucky, I guess!) A mass arrival was taking place under the pinkish sky and in the cold morning air, I crouched with my camera and took it all in... for 2 hours! 

Cranes choose the Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge over the Alamosa Wildlife Refuge because the MVNWF is near farming and they feed off the agricultural fields from sunrise to mid-morning. In fact, the grain fields on the Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge get mowed in the spring to provide food for the birds when it becomes more limited on private land.

By the time I looked up the parking lot was full. Photographers, tourists, locals; some dressed for the long haul, like me. Others prepared for 10 minutes with a cell phone, kept the car running.

These cranes didn't appear as easily spooked by people and cars as the ones I encountered in Nebraska, however every so often something spooked them! In the blink of an eye most of them would take to the sky. Rising like a curtain from the ground, blocking the light, bird calls in stereo, wing vibration all around you to the point it was almost frightening.

I learned during my time here that if you wait long enough (less than half an hour) they would most likely return en masse too. It was almost like they were forcing me to take a break to warm up and eat/drink a little in my car, periodically. The universe provides... and so did I.

I spent all morning sitting and observing cranes in community. These birds mate for life and spend considerable time "renewing their vows" with courtship displays, playfulness and what I'd call going out for dinner. Partners land and take off together, take walks together and relax together. They never get alone time or any meaningful personal space (understatement!!!) and yet they make it work. Go figure!?

Now, when I say no personal space is an understatement, what I mean is that they're ok with thousands of other cranes AND almost as many Canada geese and mallard ducks in their business too. 

Check it out; Cranes landing is like watching a glider come in to port. Landing gear down. Graceful controlled descent and with a hop and bounce, spindly little toothpick legs absorb the shock of landing. I never get tired of watching this.

In comparison, geese and ducks flutter to the ground, flapping madly to lose lift intentionally and brace for impact at the same time. It's like watching a wet blanket fall from the sky and yet, they find a space to fill in the madness and no-one seems to be any the worse for wear!

I spent the rest of the day taking in different parts of the Monte Vista Wildlife Refuge, which included a 2.5 mile driving loop through the middle where the ponds are. There are crane roosting areas on this loop road. Cranes choose shallow open water for roosting overnight.

Loafing is the term that describes the birds between about 10am and 4pm. They can be found in wet meadows and other uplands, where they loaf and occasionally feed on roots, tubers and invertebrates.

Bald Eagle

American Kestrel

Meadowlark

I returned to this loop for the pre-sunrise lift-off on Sunday. It was, shall we say, nippy leaving the hotel this morning!

Side note: When I was shopping for a 4runner last month, a sunroof was not of my list of must-have options. Some original owners had splurged for them, some had not. I didn't care.... UNTIL TODAY. This morning I popped up through the sunroof of my Moose, telephoto lens in hand as I balanced on the center console. Superb Toyota heat blew and kept me comfortable while the air above was just 12F. I had the height I needed to see over the cattails and other photographers, and I rested my heavy lens on the roof to shoot as the cranes navigated the slippery ice and took off in low light.

Just a few more hours, then I had to hit the road.

Cooper's Hawk

A bit about cranes before I go...

23,000-27,000 cranes migrate through the San Luis Valley each spring and fall. 

There are two subspecies: The greater and the lesser Sandhill Crane. In the Rocky Mountains, the population of Greater Sandhill Cranes is estimated around 18,000-23,000 birds.  95% of these will appear in the MVNWR in spring and fall on their way to breeding or wintering grounds.

There are about 3,000-5,000 of the slightly smaller Lesser Sandhill Cranes that migrate through here. 

Cranes live an impressive 20-30 years. 

They bond for life and breed at 2-5 years old. 

Pairs build large ground nests in wetlands and take turns incubating eggs.

While two eggs are often laid, only one juvenile will leave the breeding ground with parents.

Juveniles stay with parents through summer, fall and winter and when the parents begin to rekindle their pair bonds... the junvenile leaves or is forced out of the family group.

Driving home was no hardship either. Does it get more beautiful? No. No it doesn't. And that's perhaps one of the more compelling reasons for me staying in Colorado and not trekking to Nebraska this weekend.

Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife Refuge

I'm not sure how I never knew about this place... but I didn't. 

40 minutes from home and just 10 miles NE of downtown Denver, lies Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge. A wetland and prairie area that is home to bison, birds of all kinds, coyote, deer and more. It features an 11 mile wildlife drive that has a better than average chance of getting you up close and personal with all of these creatures. And in places (not inside the bison fence) you can get out and do some short hikes through wooded areas and to ponds - with your camera at the ready, if you are like me!

An imperfect book review!

I'm not even sure where to start. 

It would be true to say I'm not an avid reader.  More often than not, I start something but don't finish it. Finding connection with an author seems as important to my brain as the discovery of a compelling story. So book reviews are unlikely to be a regular thing in this blog. 

With that said, when I do have a meaningful experience inside the pages of a book, it's a bit mind blowing and like a newly minted religious convert, I'm eager to share - in case you too are hungry for a new perspective.

Brene Browns book "The Gifts of Imperfection" stuffed my head with brilliant insights yet somehow freed up brain space. It took me 6 months to work through. Each chapter was meaty and deserving of cogitation. This is not surprising if you look at who she is and her research into human connection, shame as a barrier to connection, and her theory on wholehearted living - engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. 

By page 36, when she wrote that all humans have a deep need for love and belonging and without meeting those needs we numb, we ache, we hurt others, we get sick, I was hooked. I know in order to live my life to its fullest potential, there is no room for these things! 

But connection to others and to self takes courage. The courage to put your own vulnerability out there.

Loving and accepting ourselves honestly is an act of bravery.  And while some don't agree,  I fall into the camp that believes you can't love others fully until you love yourself fully. 

It's definitely a journey - and not an easy one but "My story matters because I matter" is a healthy place to arrive at. Owning my messy and imperfect, wild and wonderful, grace-filled (not graceful!) and joyful life is important.  Not pretending everything is ok when it isn't, is important. 

Choosing worthiness and authenticity has felt like an act of resistance to me.  

Waking up in the morning and thinking "I am enough" feels pretty magical though. "I am imperfect and yet brave and worthy of love" is powerful stuff!

I'm probably going to keep this book close by for a while... within easy reach on my nightstand.  And on those days when some 25 year old tenant who knows everything about everything, tells me I'm not doing my job well in a rude email, I'll open to page 134 and remind myself to "cultivate calm"... as I sip my wine! 

I have embraced my imperfections. ;)

Hiking on Trail Ridge Road

 The other day, while up in Rocky Mountain National Park, I noticed some folks unloading cross-country skis and preparing to bypass the "Road Closed" sign on Many Parks Curve to explore Trail Ridge Rd on foot.

I knew that had to be me next time. 

The following week, Sue and I were there, bright and early. We had snow shoes and spikes, snacks and smiles. Trail Ridge was icy, snowy and in places, completely bald down to the asphalt. We hiked in spikes...

And had a picnic in spikes.

We passed a few skiers, snowboarders and other walkers - the kind that wore jeans and glamor sneakers and might have called this outing their first foray into RMNP. Someone of equal or greater enthusiasm was responsible for this snowman.... this feeble and not-long-for-this-world snowman. A hug can fix anything?!

Sue later opted for an 'emotional support pinecone' instead of a cold wet hug!

A month or so from now, they will start plowing the deep bits from this road. Smoothing it out and making it car-ready for the summer season. I will travel it to new adventures again soon.

Today though, these 6.5 miles on uneven and sometimes unstable ground took its toll. Our hips and ankles were complaining loudly before we made it back to the car. Our faces were pinkish-red, singed by the glare off the white ground and the direct sunshine from a blazing blue sky. It was time for Nepalese food and lots of it.

Oh yeah... and today marks the day that my moose-like 4runner had its first passenger-toting adventure in Colorado. Christened!

Reflection. Acceptance. Gratitude.

In her book "The Gifts of Imperfection" Brené Brown writes:

Get Deliberate

Letting go of certainty is one of my greatest challenges. I even have a physical response to "not knowing" - it's anxiety and fear and vulnerability combined. That's when I have to get very quiet and still. With my busy life, that can mean hiding in the garage or driving around the block. Whatever it takes, I have to find a way to be still so I can hear what I'm saying.

Amen, sister! 

In another of my favorite books; Gaia's Garden, I found an introduction to the permaculture principle related to the edge of an environment - The place where different pieces click together, is where diversity abounds, materials accumulate and translate and an abundance of potential exists. It's also where species are likely most vulnerable at first... 

I know that from the outside looking in, it can make other people wholey uncomfortable to see me head out into the wilderness or desert to be alone (and vulnerable). I have very well meaning and loving friends express concern that I will be unsafe, bored or lonely. They might even share sympathy that I haven't found a friend to take with me.  

But the truth is, I am deliberate. I deliberately don't invite anyone. I deliberately choose places and times of year that offer the most solitude. I deliberately devote time to listening to what I'm saying. 

And yes, in those first few hours alone, as I get my feet under me and my own (often dark) thoughts begin to take voice, there is considerable anxiety... the type that comes with nausea and appetite loss! But I know it will pass as I step out of my comfortable environment and inch toward that place where a new environment begins - and stay there a while. As I start to embrace my own potential, I feel energized.

It makes a lot of sense to me that humans have both a deep need for certainty and also need for uncertainty in their lives. The far edges of my normal environment is where uncertainty lies... but it's also the place where my voice gives me answers (to questions I didn't even know I had) and leaves me feeling more certain. A bit magical really.

Final thought: There are brief moments (those dark thoughts I mentioned) when I question my belonging. After all, this periodic tendancy to go solo is hard for almost anyone I know to really understand and that makes me feel "different". 

Then my friends call me while I'm on the road to make sure I'm safe and happy.

My inner voice (now louder and wiser) reminds me that fitting in and belonging are VERY different animals. Fitting in would probably see me curb my enthusiasm for solo trips so that I better matched my people. Belonging is where I'm accepted and loved by my people - just the way I am!