Month: November 2021

I want to put my bird feeder out for the winter. My kitties love to watch through the window as birds feast on the treats. I cannot put the feeders out, however, until I am sure the bears have gone into hibernation. I do not want to tempt them to visit and get themselves in trouble.

I did not have much association with bears until I moved to Colorado. I had a respect for bears in camping activities, but I didn’t know much about bears until recently. I am learning through my work as a volunteer Bear Rover in Rocky Mountain National Park.

I have the pleasure of volunteering at Moraine Park Campground once a week in the summer to do bear education. Volunteers rove campsite to campsite and remind people why keeping their food away from the bears by putting it in bear boxes or appropriately concealing it in their locked cars is important.

The bears we have are Black Bears, regardless of whether they are black, brown, or tan. These bears look and act different than Grizzly Bears that are in the mountains further north of Colorado. Grizzlies were once common in the area before the park was established but were extirpated at the beginning of the 20^th century.

Black Bears are afraid of people—they just want a convenient meal from people if they can get it. These bears are omnivores with a diet that consists of insects and plants. Opportunistically they will eat meat, but they are not hunters. In the fall, they go into hyperphagia when they consume as much as they can—up to 20,000 calories a day.

A myth about bears is that they hibernate by going into a deep sleep for months. They do not hibernate like some other mammals. Their bodies slow down, and they take exceptionally long naps, but it is common for Black bears to wake up during the winter. They usually cannot find much to eat so go back to bed until spring offers them tasty cuisines.

A local card store has advice cards for sale about what we can learn from animals and flora. I liked the ideas about bears. “Live large” and “eat well” is good advice. I also like bear advice pertaining to “living with the seasons.” I am not a napper but the notion of taking a good long nap does have salience on chilly winter days.

I enjoy knowing about bears and seeing them infrequently in the park. They live the best lives they can. I am glad I can protect them and help others realize the effort needed to assure that they do not get into trouble. Unfortunately, a fed bear can end up a dead bear. I’ll wait just a little bit longer before I put up my winter bird feeder.

I was on a zoom call during the pandemic with friends. The moderator posed a question that everyone could answer if they wished. She asked, “With what person living or dead would you most like to have dinner?” About half of the friends on the call concurred with me that the person was John Denver.

I spent the summer of 1971 working at a camp in Colorado. I fell in love with the wide-open spaces of the mountains, the music of running brooks, the sighting of wild animals, and the invigoration of hiking. I also fell in love with John Denver. “Rocky Mountain High” was released in 1972 and solidified my love for the mountains as expressed by the folksy singing and inspiring words about nature from John Denver.

A high school friend first heard John Denver in 1970 when she was a senior at the University of Iowa. One evening she was writing a paper at the Student Union. An official told her she would have to leave because a singer named John Denver was going to entertain in that room that evening. She plunked down two quarters and said she was going to stay for whoever this guy was. In the middle of the first song, she stopped working to listen. This guy was good. Months later John Denver had his first hit song.

For 50 years, John Denver’s music has inspired me. For example, in 1974 I went to Turkey for six months as part of an international 4-H staff exchange. The only cassette tape I took was John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High.” Listening to that tape helped to assuage the loneliness I sometimes felt.

Upon returning home from Turkey, I gave over 70 presentations throughout Iowa to crowds as small as six people to over 2000. I put together a montage of slides with music to show to give a flavor of the experience I had. “Back Home Again” was the lead song that expressed my joy in being back in Iowa as well as to acknowledge my homes in Turkey.

I heard John Denver in concert several times. I drove miles if I knew he was performing. I owned his every recording. I never tired of listening and loved the time of the year when I felt justified in playing his Christmas albums, including the one with the Muppets.

Several years ago, I was asked to write a chapter for a book entitled Making a Difference in Academic Life. I felt flattered to think that I belonged with the other individuals chosen from my field. Not sure how to frame this chapter, I found the phrase “the things that we believe in” from “Poems, Prayers, and Promises” to be a way to describe my commitment to my profession and its future.

John Denver left us too soon. When I heard the news on that October day in 1997, I sat and cried as if I had lost a close friend.

I think about John Denver’s songs as poetry bringing joy, peace, and comfort in my life. His songs bring back memories of good times, especially in the outdoors. Now that I live in Colorado, I get to listen to the recordings while I live the sentiments in the Rockies.

I was talking to a wise friend recently about her wellbeing. She remarked, “I have everything I need and most of what I want.” That comment has preoccupied me as I have thought about my life.

What one needs and what one wants reminds me of an idea that I came across 40 years ago–the notion of Voluntary Simplicity from Duane Elgin. I have thought about how I can live my life as simply as possible. Sometimes I am successful and other times not.

As Elgin defined it, voluntary simplicity is “a manner of living that is outwardly simple and inwardly rich, … a deliberate choice to live with less in the belief that more life will be returned to us in the process.” Voluntary simplicity is a way of life that rejects high-consumption and a consumer culture. This refusal recognizes that consumptive habits degrade the planet and can be unethical in a world of human need. The meaning of life does not necessarily exist in the accumulation of material things.

I am thinking more about what I need compared to what I want. All of us have basic needs, as Maslow suggested including shelter, food, safety, and meaningful activity. I have those things. I recognize that simple living is a choice that I can make because I have the means to have more if I wanted. Some people practice simple living as their only choice. When people have an adequate income to cover the necessities of life, additional spending is not necessary.

I am trying to balance the acquisition of what I need compared to what I want. I do admit that I don’t need to travel to experience the outdoors, and yet that is something I continue to want and will do in moderation.

I grew up with “Depression Era” parents who planted the idea of frugality. It did not grow quickly. I thought my parents were overly conservative and I wanted the American dream of money and a new car every two years. My attitude began to change when I spent six months in the developing country of Turkey during my mid-twenties. I realized then that I had so much and many of the Turkish rural people I got to know, had little, but were happy.

How much is enough? In retirement, I have time and freedom to pursue goals including community and social engagements, meaningful interactions with friends, intellectual projects, fulfilling volunteerism, spiritual exploration, reading, contemplation, and relaxation. I attempt to live a life of meaning with a sustainable and equitable share of nature. I strive to practice minimalism and functionality and the responsibility uses of natural resources.

I am not espousing a life of poverty or being self-righteous. Everyone has to decide what is important. I am, however, endeavoring to make conscious decisions. I try to resist the consumer culture and the daily messages that having more is always better. It is voluntary and simple, and not easy.

Most places have names. Sometimes they are logical names based on a feature. Sometimes descriptive names were given by indigenous peoples. Other times name designations were convenient, honorary, or just distinctive.

I grew up in a town uniquely called Coggon, Iowa that brags as being the only Coggon in the world. The story goes that when white people settled the community over 150 years ago, they could not agree on the town’s name. The compromise was to name the town after the next person who got off the train at the railroad station. It happened to be Mr. Coggon.** In addition, Iowa got its name from the Ioway people, a tribe of Native Americans who occupied the area before the European settlers arrived.

Before Estes Park was named, the Arapaho Tribe called it heet-ko’einoo’ – or “The Circle.” Most Arapaho names given to lakes and mountains have more meaning than their current names. For example, indigenous people called Mt Meeker and Longs Peak “Two Guides” because they provided direction when travelling from the plains.

Other examples of Arapaho names in Rocky Mountain National Park that have significance include Lake Haiyaha, which few visitors pronounce correctly, meaning “Rocks.” If you have been to this lake, you know how exceptional it is with all the big rocks around and in the lake. The Kawuneeche Valley on the west side of the park means “Coyote.” Tonahutu is Arapaho for “Big Meadows”—an apt description. I love how these names are a way to acknowledge the natural landscapes and the indigenous civilizations that preceded us.

When I volunteer at Bear Lake, people ask if they will see bears. The naming of Bear Lake, according to High Country Names by Arps and Kingery that I frequently consult for information, says that early in the white settlement of the area, a rancher saw a bear at this lake. Bears were uncommon and he named it Bear Lake. Cub Lake is nearby but not named for a bear. Early settlers thought it was so small that they called it a “cub of a lake.”

I enjoy some more modern references to names in the park. For example, the Four Tops on the continental divide are Gabletop, Notchtop, Knobtop, and Flattop. Each of them is descriptive of their topography. Named lakes in the Glacier Gorge area include the “bruise” lakes—Black, Blue, and Green.

I think it helpful that sometimes lakes and mountains is an area share a generic theme. For example, Wild Basin has the “bird” lakes—Bluebird, Pipit, Lark, Junco, and Chickadee. The indigenous people named the Never Summer Range for that reason. Peaks in that area are named after cloud formations: Cumulus, Cirrus, and Nimbus. “Lake of the Clouds” is a nearby alpine lake.

Although perhaps “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” places have meanings and I love exploring the origin of names wherever I wander.

**My cousin has advised me that I did not have the story quite right. Mr. Coggon did not physically visit Coggon. Two families were arguing on naming the town after themselves –the Greens and the Nugents. To find a solution to the squabble, Superintendent Spaulding of England, who was in town to  supervise construction of the railroad, recently received a letter from his cousin William Coggon of England. He suggested “Coggon” and everyone agreed.  Nevertheless, to our knowledge, Coggon is still the only place named Coggon in the world.