Colorado Camp
(This 958th Buffalo Sunday News column was first published on August 2, 2009.)

My son beside
his Colorado camp
I
am most fortunate in my children. Both have done well. My daughter and her
husband have a home in El Paso in which my brother claims "you could
bivouac the Third Army." And my son and his wife, who live in a normal-sized
home in Denver, have a camp built near La Veta in south central Colorado.
I
say camp in the sense of those Adirondack camps built by folks like the
Rockefellers. My son's is an attractive building in a gated community with 21
homes widely separated over five square miles. You could fit my suburban Buffalo
house in the garage.
The
camp is built into a mountainside at 8450 feet. It is surrounded by scrub oak,
stunted trees, in fact really shrubs that grow to about seven feet. Some pines
and spruce rise above this undergrowth. Higher up are slopes of open rock with conifers
hanging on precariously.
From
a large second level porch you look south across a long valley to more mountain
peaks and east at a line of crags along which Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep pick
their way. On one cliff face is a golden eagle aerie.
Although
we hiked, always on the lookout for rattlesnakes, and rode ATVs around the
area, we spent much of the four days I visited on that porch. On one morning my
son-in-law pointed out two bear cubs cavorting in a meadow a quarter mile
downhill. But the best attraction for me was the beautiful 35-foot blue spruce
that grew only about ten yards from where we sat facing its upper branches. That
is where I saw a remarkable number of handsome birds we rarely if ever see here
in the East.

Mountain Bluebird
Mountain bluebird. Our eastern bluebird
is among my favorites, the male with a rich blue unequaled in the bird world
and a breast of almost equally rich chestnut-orange. This western cousin is all
blue, its blue much softer but still very attractive. A pair nested under the
porch and they were regular visitors to the spruce.
Steller's jay. Our blue jay is rarely
seen in this part of Colorado. (Locals were very excited when several years ago
I found one even further west near Park City, Utah.) The Steller's jay is a
striking bird. It looks as though our eastern jay had stuck its head and
shoulders in black ink. When I finally got beyond looking at that startling
head and crest, I could see that it didn't have the wing bars of our jay and
that the blue of the rest of its body was brighter than ours. This bird often
perched in the top branches of the spruce from which it liked to stare us down.
Western scrub jay. Easily identified as a
jay, this bird looks nothing like the blue jay. It has less blue than ours,
gray on its back and belly, dark gray cheeks, and a white throat. Its habits
were quite unlike the Steller's jay. It visited the lower branches of the
spruce or worked its way through the stunted ashes.
You
might think by now that all the western birds are blue and most of them are
jays. But other quite differently colored birds also appeared in this spruce.
Spotted towhee. Black with chestnut sides
like our eastern towhee but with, as you might expect, white spots on its back.
Bullock's oriole. This is the widespread
western replacement for our Baltimore oriole. It has orange extending from the
stomach up the side of its head. It appeared only once at mid-height in the
spruce.

Black-headed
Grosbeak
Black-headed grosbeak. Another orange and
black bird, this one with the thick bill that gives it its name. Like the
towhee and scrub jay, it spent its time in the lower branches and out in the
oaks.
Hammond's flycatcher. Westerners too have
trouble distinguishing their empidonax flycatchers. You have to wait for them
to sing. Fortunately, I heard this bird's sharp two note chips.
Broad-tailed Hummingbird. Last and indeed
least, this is the noisiest hummer, quite similar to our ruby-throated. It
alternated with the Steller's jay in the treetop.
That
was just one tree. Nearby were ravens, a green-tailed towhee, pine siskins,
violet-green swallows and a red-shafted flicker.--
Gerry Rising