Snow In The Canyon

SnowCanyon8407

Wouldn’tcha just know it. Yesterday the sun was shining, it was almost hot with the temps in the mid 60’s and today just a few miles away as the crow flies, if he wasn’t frozen and stuck to his perch, it was cold, windy and the temps were in the low 30’s.

This is the Poudre River canyon where Colorado hwy 14 climbs up along the mountain along side the Cache La Poudre river as it rushes down to the flatlands below. In the background you can see the snow heading this way. It’s not a full-blown storm yet, more of a test or a warning that it’s going to be doing this in earnest before you can say “Maui, I want to go to Maui.”

It’s serious though, the storm that is, look back into that dark, opaque gray way up the canyon. Cars were coming out of that with 3 or 4 inches of snow on them. The elevation right here is between 8 and 9 thousand feet and it’s much higher up there where it is really snowing. What that means is the leaves that are trying so hard to change color are soon going to be lying on the ground and floating down the river and all of these aspen* are going to be standing here with their bare little branches sticking out, nude and defenseless until next spring, which is a long, long way away.

The danger here is that snow at this time of year is usually sticky and heavy with moisture and will cling to those bright golden aspen leaves and cause them to fall off much sooner than they would have without the snow. The leaves are in a weakened state and are barely clinging to their branches now and the slightest little breeze will send them flying off into the great unknown.

What that means for a photographer is that if you want color you better get your keester up there and shoot like you mean it for as long as you can, before the leaves are all gone off the trees and it’s game over. So today bright and early it’s off to the now chilly mountains and getting used to shooting with a heavy down coat, gloves and a thermos of hot tea again. With a little luck the storm will have blown through and left some of the leaves on the trees.

But even though the scene is muted isn’t it one of the most beautiful places in the world? Regardless of the conditions and discomfort it is a real treat to be able to be out there, communing with nature, freezing your hiney off, and seeing some of the most magnificent scenery in the world. Someone has to be taking pictures and saving these views for all to enjoy next summer when we’re all whining about how hot it is. Besides if I wasn’t doing this I might have to get a real job and that would really suck.

* Actually these bright yellow trees are cottonwoods. If you turn around and look across the road you’ll see the aspen standing there. Oh wait, this is a picture and you can’t look over there. You better just come along then and I’ll show you exactly where they are. Hurry up we’re going to miss them. And don’t forget your gloves.

Secrets Kept Here

Cottonwood4869click to enlarge

I always had a not so secret fondness for secret places. You know, Toad hall, and places where elves dwell, mossy spots under the bank where you’re sure you’ve seen movement but didn’t see what made it. Having been a voracious reader as a kid I still want to know what General Hornwort’s burrow looked like inside, did he have the ears of his enemies mounted on the walls or maps of his next conquests strewn over the rabbit sized table in the great hall, they just never tell you enough in those stories, so I am constantly on the lookout for those magical places so I can see for myself. This old cottonwood has many secrets to tell and if you sit next to him and are very quiet he will tell you some of them. I did and we spoke of many things, what its like to get old, do things really matter as much as you think they do, is it worth it. He told me some of the answers and I would tell them to you but he asked me not to. After all secrets are secrets, right?

Sadly I am not finding as many of these places as I used to. TI don’t know if it is because we’re tearing them down and filling them in or perhaps much more frightening, can it be because you begin to lose your ability to see them as you totter towards old age. I say the hell with that theory. I think it is because I’m not getting out as much as I used to. I plan to change that very soon. So watch for me at a secret place near you.