Michael,

Finally, the wildflowers are coming to the foothills. And that’s in spite of two snowstorms we had last week right here in Boulder. (The snow disappeared the next day.) This picture shows the area we XC-skied in at about 10,500 ft the day before yesterday. It’s up above the tunnel under the Front Range where the Colorado Zephyr breezes its way to California. A gentle blizzard dropped a foot of wonderful, light powder while we skied.

Then today, Beth and I went for a hike on snow-free (at 5,400 ft) Marshall Mesa, just south of town, and spotted lots of Pasqueflowers and tiny, pink Moss Campions.

Spring is finally coming to the Front Range foothills, but I’ll miss the snow!

–rakkity

Michael,

I don’t think this new toy is a spoof.  The eyePhone may not actually be available yet, but it looks technologically feasible. It’s just what we Beartooth fogies need to identify those mysterious lakes and mountains without fooling around with maps.

I wonder what happens if you point it at yourself? Does it come up with your personal  webpage or blog?

–rakkity

Mike,

A couple of weeks ago, Mrs Rakkity & I got back from a circumnavigation of northern New Mexico and  southern Colorado.   One of the nicest towns we spent time in was Santa Fe which is so full of street art, art galleries, random art, and “revival adobe”, my little camera nearly caught fire.  I have boiled and distilled my snapshots down to a few. These are not the not necessarily the best because I selected them as personal favorites, each with its own back story.

After Santa Fe, we hiked through Aztec Ruins and Canyons of the Ancients, for which I also have albums, and I’ll pass them on in due time.

Ed

City Council Resolution Would Impose Height Restrictions
By Oaklined R. Childerings

In a move that challenges some of the greatest natural forces on Earth and even the authority of God herself, the Boulder City Council on Tuesday passed a resolution imposing height restrictions on the Flatirons.

Created over millions of years by nearly unimaginably powerful geological forces, the Flatirons consist of conglomerate sandstone of the Fountain Formation. Geologists estimate the age of these rocks as 290-296 million years; they were lifted and tilted into their present orientation between 35 and 80 million years ago, during the Laramide Orogeny and were subsequently exposed by erosion.

None of that, however, means “jack” to the city council, according to the Boulder Mayor Shaun McGrath, who cited “endless bitching” from Boulder residents about the mountainous formation’s obstruction of their view of the snow-capped peaks beyond. “Dammit, if it wasn’t for that ugly brown behemoth you could see all the way to Kremmling.”

Though the current height restrictions merely disallow any future upheaval of the flatirons, Councilmember Matt Applebaum says the action doesn’t go far enough. Some portions of the Flatirons, he said, mock the city of Boulder’s government as well as its citizens.

“Devil’s Thumb looks more like the Devil’s Middle Finger to me,” said Appelbaum. “It’s like the Flatirons are laughing in our faces, saying, ‘Screw Boulder'”

Applebaum’s “Flatten the Flatirons campaign has gained steam among many members of the council and planning commission, so much so that plans to knock down Devil’s Thumb are already moving forward.

“We’re just gonna knock that big rock right down with a wrecking ball,” said councilperson Lisa Morzel. “Maybe we can make a decorative sculpture out of it and put it on the Pearl St Mall.”

No climbing will be allowed on any such sculpture, she added.

“I envision a Boulder where all human-built structures and, yes, the Flatirons themselves, are wiped flat.,” said Applebaum. “If we force people to live underground no one will be able to interfere with anyone’s view of the mountains. From there it’s just a logical next step to knock down the Flatirons.”

Hideous, God-forsaken towns in eastern Colorado like Flagner have already expressed interest in purchasing some or all of the flatirons for use as tourist attractions.

“Just think of the giant post rocks we could make out of those mountains,” said Flagler Town Manager Justin Crisp. “We could fence this whole damn county in.”

Others aren’t so sure. “A giant, solid stone Stuckey’s or truck stop might be nice,” said Flager resident Elma Perkins, a fifth-generation resident of the wind-blown hell-hole.

–rakkity

On his 90th birthday last December, Arthur C. Clarke filmed himself talking to the world from his wired residence in Sri Lanka

In the middle he says,
“I hope that we have learned something from the most barbaric century in history — the twentieth. I would like to see us overcome our tribal factions, and begin to think and act as if we were one family. That would be real globalization.”

His last words in the film were, “Thank you and goodbye from Colombo.”

Rest in peace, Sir Arthur.

–rakkity

On his 90th birthday last December, Arthur C. Clarke filmed himself talking to the world from his wired residence in Sri Lanka

In the middle he says,
“I hope that we have learned something from the most barbaric century in history — the twentieth. I would like to see us overcome our tribal factions, and begin to think and act as if we were one family. That would be real globalization.”

His last words in the film were, “Thank you and goodbye from Colombo.”

Rest in peace, Sir Arthur.

–rakkity

Mike,

I’m still keeping my eyes peeled for new Boulder bumper stickers, and when I see one, I note it down on the b.s. notepad I keep in my car.  I see many of the old ones already listed, but new ones keep on appearing.  Maybe I’ve seen about half of all that are out there.  Some are funny enough that I forget where I’m driving, like “I study ferns, and I vote!”

–rakkity

Hi Mike,

Boulder’s early spring flowers seem to be confused by the combination of low temperatures and intense sun this month.  The Corsican violets have come and gone, but now the crocuses have formed riots of purple in the town’s gardens. Meanwhile, up in the mountains, the snow keeps falling on avalanche terrain, making us XC skiers eye the slopes warily.  And underneath those deep drifts, the creeks are already gushing towards the Colorado, the South Platte, and the Arkansas rivers to feed the thirsty plains.

rakkity, your roving rapporteur

Mike,

Shot this picture while driving today through Boulder.  I thought I had ferreted out all possible sources of latte in this caffeinated town, but here’s another source of the bean.   At first I visualized ordering espresso drinks from the comfort of your barcalounger by phone or email, but (unfortunately) they just cater espresso to businesses.

–rakkity

Mike,

Yesterday, Beth and I were out for a stroll around Coot Lake wetlands, and we were admiring the flocks of red-wing blackbirds, when we encountered this painting of herons with a poem by Wendell Berry.

When despair for the world grows in me,
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake rests
in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.

Wendell Berry

–rakkity

Michael,

It took awhile, but we finally got the electrons to come down to our garage roof and live with us. The Project Manager (“Joe”) should never see this html opus, or he would be mightily embarassed. The Xcel technician who slacked off on the job should be embarrassed, too, for delaying our electrons an unnecessary day.

You may be surprised to see that shot of sun-obscuring clouds in our sky.  So am I.  With 385 days (or so) of sun per year,  it’s pretty unusual, but it does happen. Snow is predicted again for tomorrow, so the kilowatts may be few and far between for a while,  and I might not get that long-awaited movie of the backwards-running meter until our March lion finishes toying with the lamb.

–rakkity

Michael,

The weather gods turned on me after I described our balmy March 1st weather, with blue skies, infinite crystalline views, and crowded outdoor tables at Boulder’s restaurants.

The morning afterwards, we woke to snow and gusty winds. The temp dropped 45 deg overnight.

–rakkity

PS: Am I allowed back to the blog?