Category Archives: Uncategorized

In the Spirit of the Woods

It was warm this morning. While on my routine walk with Monkey, I noticed her soaking up the warm rays of sunlight. It is fall. The earth is quiet, the air is still, humidity from the trees hung to the earth. Weather is coming, or at least that’s what they say. Monkey was basking and I took her lead and followed. Quietly we made our way home. The sky was growing overcast, the light was soft and instead of working on my “to-do” list, I was compelled to head outdoors. This time, I left the dogs at home. I wanted to explore lower bluebell creek. I wanted to connect with the spirit of the woods.


I have wandered Bluebell Creek regularly since moving to the neighborhood 15 years ago. The lower section is dominated by green ash, an introduced species, but they create a lovely canopy over the narrow intermittent stream. In the summer, the woods stay cool and moist while the rest of Boulder bakes in the sun. In the Fall, the trail through the woods are dappled with yellow, brown and orange leaves. This year, the creek bed is a tangle of debris. Sticks, logs and rocks piled up against each other, remnants of the flood. Remnants that are slowly decaying, compressing and solidifying into mounts. The topography within this narrow drainage was completely altered. The trees bend and bow. Forest spirits live here which is evident by the many children visits. Creativity and mystery abounds in lower Bluebell Creek and today the earth spirits called.

Boulder Creek

Twenty years ago, I completed a masters degree along the banks of lower Boulder Creek and am now revisiting the river from headwaters to its confluence with the St. Vrain River. Boulder Creek originates on the east side of the continental divide above 13,000’ and joins the St Vrain river below 5000’. It’s approximately 50 miles long and is the life force of Boulder Colorado.

Interurban – Sense of Place and Time

I live in a vibrant neighborhood nestled against the mountains in Boulder, Colorado. Thirteen years ago, my family moved into a predominate 1950‘s era neighborhood. We were the new kids on the block, buying an old house and renovated it to today’s standards. Since that time, all the elders on our block have died and almost all the homes have either been demolished/restored/renovated and modernized. We have a completely new history evolving as the whole neighborhood undergoes a rapid change. Thus I began thinking of all the house/family/individual histories that linger as only faded memories; children playing hide and go seek in the magic garden; dad’s old tool shed/man cave; lawn care, home maintenance and June Cleaver hanging the laundry. This project is about a sense of place and time in the Interurban/Floral Park neighborhood. In this series only times stands still on the Rittenhouse Clock.