Rocky Mountain High

Greetings from the Rocky Mountains, a majestic and formidable range formed in an inland ocean millions of years ago. Underwater, layers upon layers of sediment were stacked, and as the mountains rose, the sea ebbed and flowed, revealing in places the striking layers of the mountainside.

The evidence of water is everywhere here: in the striations of the stone, in the white snow fields of the tundra, in the steady cascade down a rock face. This time of year, creeks are largely dried up, awaiting the winter’s deluge of snow that, when melts, will continue to carve the landscape.

And carve it does. As a sculptor with a chisel, gravity pulls rivulets down the mountainside, taking eons to create its masterpiece. It’s work is visible in the furrows and folds of the mountain itself, the deep crevices that give way to freezing streams. Into the valley, water continues its work molding the landscape, insistently creating deeper and deeper channels.

The Rockies are aptly named. Boulders the size of buildings cleave from the peaks, bouncing and rolling their way with terrible force down the mountainside, leaving only felled timber and rock faces behind— and enough space and sunlight for the aspens to take root. Across the valley, they now look a like a golden river cascading down the mountain, their autumnal colors a stark contrast to the sea of evergreen that dominate the landscape.

The mountains hold the water, cradling it like the precious life force it is. Beginning in the tundra, in an area devoid of trees, pools of water form. They’re seemingly ubiquitous here, and continue into the lower elevations. Some of these pools are big enough to be called lakes, and have been given fairytale names: Dream, Emerald, Nymph, and Bear. Trout swim among the fallen trunks, clearly visible from the rocky shorelines. 

Water continues to slide down the mountainside, into the small brooks, creeks, and tributaries, offering sustenance for elk, moose, bears as it makes its way to the headwaters. As it continues its flow, it will continue to contour the land, joining with the other waters that are shed from land from rainfall and snowmelt. As these waters collide and combine, they’ll form roaring rapids, a winding ribbon visible from space. After a journey of thousands of miles, the water, fallen onto the mountains born from the sea, will slide back into the ocean.

It’s all connected, and we’re part of this delicate, primordial system.