NATURE NOTES
FROM
ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK
EDMUND B. ROGERS, Superintendent |
DORR G. YEAGER, Editor |
Volume V |
JUNE 1932 |
Number VI |
Things I've Noticed Lately
Too often during the coming months we will encounter
the following questions from a hurried visitor"What can I see in
half a day?" Too often we will not stop to explain that half a day is
altogether too brief a time to really see anything. Such a visitor is
not especially desirous of seeing anything which brings me to this
conclusion. Man is able to see a great deal in a short time if he looks
for itor he can see nothing in a long time if he is so
inclined.
A few days ago I left the office for a couple of
hours for the expressed purpose of seeing what I could find in that
length of time. Nothing startling, but I assured myself that Nature was
still functioning as usual. I saw:
My first Audubon Warbler of the season flitting
about the willows with his mate in the vicinity of Mary's Lake.
Wonderful beds of Pasque flowers in full bloom from
7,000 to 9,500 feet. They are painting the roadsides blue up beyond
Longs Peak Inn.
A Picket Pin pausing before his burrow with mouth
full of nesting material. Within a short time the inquisitive babies
will poke their heads out into the sunlight,
The delicate wax-like blooms of Kinnikinnic showing
themselves among the dark green foliage on the forest floor.
Pin-cushion Cacti in full bloom. This plant may be
scorned by some but to me it bears one of the most beautiful flowers in
the hills.
That the snowshoe Rabbits are rapidly turning from
their white winter coat to the darker pelage of summer. Where did man
get the idea that he invented the art of camouflage?
A few hardy Larkspurs putting forth their deep
purple blossoms at the lower altitudes.
A marmot flattening himself to an almost
unbelievable size on a pile of rocks in an attempt to escape my
observation.
Scattered beds of Chiming Bells blooming on the
south side of Moraine Park.
That the frogs are singing loudly all along the
Thompson river above Tuxedo Park.
A Mourning Dove watching my approach from his
station in a dead spruce, and then suddenly taking fright and wheeling
away with that soft whirring sound.
That the cottagers in Moraine Park are going to
arrive too late to enjoy the Capnoides and Chiming Bells which are now
blooming profusely in their yards.

COLORADO BLUE SPRUCE
(courtesy Nature Magazine)
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