dances with elk

left: Us posing at Estes Park sign, the gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park

This weekend, nine of us traveled to Rocky Mountain National Park to experience a quintessential Colorado fall day - a hike through aspen groves to a mountain lake, followed by a picnic lunch and elk-watching. The beauty of the Park is hard to describe. It is a rugged beauty, almost austere with its dramatic peaks scratching high and treeless into the baby blue sky. But it is also a delicate beauty, and the keen observer is well awarded by graceful harebells (like bluebells, but larger and darker blue) or heartleaf arnica (butter-yellow petals and heart-shaped leaves) or pearly everlasting (clumps of circular creamy white blossoms). In fact, austerity and delicacy intertwine in the Park; at over 7000 feet, harsh weather arrives so soon and stays so long that every creature, no matter how delicate it appears, has hidden a broad repertoire of hard-nosed tactics to survive to see another spring.

Our hike wound through a valley en route to Cub Lake. Whoever said that Colorado's 'other gold' is the aspen trees in fall was right; at points along the hike, we were entirely surrounded above, below, and beside by flaming yellow aspen leaves quivering in the wind. The very air seemed transformed, more illuminated, alive,energetic, as if you could see the golden molecules bouncing around leaf to leaf.

left: Cub Lake

Cub Lake was well worth the 2.3 mile hike. It was vaguely oval-shaped and half-filled with water lilies that sadly were past their blooming prime. I read a poem once about a woman lying on the grass being a 'bowl full of sunshine' and indeed we were, all sprawled out on a lovely boulder beside the water, watching a duck amble along in search of the trail mix we (accidentally!) dropped into the lake. Soak it in! is all I wanted to do, filling my eyes with evergreens and aspens, water and lilies, beauty unfolded beneath the blue sky.

left: female elk moving left across a meadow. About 5 minutes later, a rather flustered looking male came in hot pursuit

And more fun was yet to come! After our hike, we chose a picnic spot that overlooked a meadow, in order to view the seasonal 'bugling' of the elk. Picture this: a herd of around 10 female elk, calmy grazing at twilight. Enter stage right a male elk, epitomizing the meaning of the word 'strut.' Tossing his impressive rack of antlers in the air, he sizes up the situation and boldly approaches the female crowd. At about 15 feet away, he rears back and bugles, emitting a bellow that begins in bass and ends with a triumphant tenor. The females graze, unaffected. The male bugles again. More grazing. And so on.

I assume the end result of bugling, once the females tear themselves away from the grass at their hooves, is tiny elklings in the spring, but we didn't stick around long enough to make sure. However, as we left the Park, the streets were just lined up and down with cars unloading family after family, stocked with snacks and lawn chairs, to watch the elk. Colorado dinner theater at its finest! Which brings up an interesting question - Could elk bugling be a convenient opportunity to broach the subject of the birds and the bees with young children? Continuation of a species, broadcast live. I wonder if any parents have tried it...But as one housemate pointed out, how exactly would you address the issue of monogomy ("Mom, why does the guy elk bugle to all the girl elks?") or, for that matter, why people crowd to watch what in the realm of humans occurs behind closed doors. Nonetheless, for a born and bred suburbanite, such a close encounter with nature at its most necessary level was fascinating.

Overall, the day was magnifique, bursting with color and life and fresh, fresh mountain air. Glory be to God for the richness of creation.