A Bit of History

When we first moved to Estes from Denver we lived in "the Superman House". It was furnished as we were "testing the waters" before committing to living up here. Our son, Kristopher loved Superman. When we checked out this house to rent, the bunk beds in what would be the boys room had Superman themed bedding. The basement apartment would become available and my mom, dad and brother moved in there so as not to have to worry about traveling the Big Elk road during the winter. Mom was worried they would get stuck in there when my dad was out of town. One of the first 'signs' of deer intelligence was after a deep snowstorm. We had a large herd of deer that would feed outside the basement glass door. When it was time to go to the hospital for the birth of our youngest child, Alicia, I looked out the window to see a herd of buck deer, all with large racks. Deer usually are in groups of 4-5 to maybe a dozen or so. In contrast to herds of elk that number in the hundreds. I told my husband if we had a boy, I wanted to name him Buck. As we had a girl, I still nicknamed her or used the 'pet' name, Bucky Lou. Her middle name is Louise. I digress as she was born in the end of April. Back to the large snowstorm. I watched in utter amazement as this large herd of deer, over a dozen, ate their grain. The bucks formed a circle around the feeding area, all facing outward. It reminded me of the early pioneers 'circling the wagons'. They stood watch as the young babies, then moms, had their fill. Then, the babies stayed within the circle, but the does took the bucks place and stood guard while the Bucks ate. It was the only time I saw such an obvious cooperation and "plan" by the deer, or any animal since, to actually form a protective circle making sure the women and children fed first, the bucks later. It sounds far fetched, but I swear it was true. It was a sight that would be 'burned' in my memory forever. I had a long, philosophical discussion with one of my Catholic, High school priests during a class in theology about whether animals had souls or the ability to 'think' or reason. He claimed they only acted/reacted as a result of instinct. Oh how I wish I had experienced all my observations before that discussion. There was one dear in the group that would show up, usually sporadically and in small groups, (only once as the large family group) that we called 'grandpa. He was obviously much older and more of a loner. When he had antlers, it basically consisted of one or two small stumps. Nothing like the spikes of yearlings or younger, less mature dear. They were thick, but because he was so old, his "stud" days were well past and he didn't need the large racks of the healthy, more mature bucks. As you will hear in a later post, the old studs of the herds basically travel alone or hang around a distance from the group that he once may have claimed for him alone. The deer weren't always supplied grain, usually only when the winter storms made feeding difficult. But it would seem that whenever we needed a "sign" from God regarding some struggle or time of questioning, the deer would appear as if directed by God to assure us He was near and would care for us as He did the wild creatures. That is why Bucky Lou was called her 'pet' name when I was melancholy over whatever, because the morning we left to induce her delivery, a large group of bucks were there to see us off. I don't remember the specifics, (time or who found it), of this next instance, but we would often hope the deer would drop their antlers outside of the house. That never happened. Except once. I believe this one stump of an antler was found on the threshold of the basement sliding glass door by my father, shortly before he died. If not found by dad, then mom found it after dad died, about a month after Alicia was born. We would never see Grandpa buck again, and knew he left a gift for us as a sign of Gods love for us. When mom and my brother went to Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Denver to make arrangements, 3 deer were at the entrance to the cemetery. We have been to that family plot a "million" times as all my paternal relatives were buried there, before dad. We have NEVER seen any deer anywhere near this cemetery. So we knew that the deer are/were Gods sign to us that all would be OK and He loves us so deeply. I have believed that God uses wildlife frequently, to bring us comfort and love. You will see this evidenced even more in future posts.

Wildlife 'guides'

A few of my old neighbors also moved to this new complex. We were standing around our 'cluster' mailboxes and those already living here told us our first story of what to expect regarding wildlife. Just days prior to my getting all moved in, a mountain lion took down an elk, right at the cluster boxes. We soon had a meeting with the Division of Wildlife to find out if we could be attacked. Basically, he let it be known that it would be wise to get our mail while it was light out. If it would be dark, leave the car headlights on, (only get the mail after dark while in our cars), and keep a large stick with us at all times. We have a healthy mountain lion/cougar population in town, and an over abundance of elk. I have yet to see a mountain lion, but I'm sure the day will come.

After my back surgery I was laid up in bed for a while, and flare ups of fibromyalgia confines me to bed on occasion. I must have the best unit in the whole complex. I can leave my shades up and watch the moon rise over the horizon. When the moon is full, light cascades over the meadow and the peace that washes over me is amazing. Close to miraculous. Day or night, the elk can be seen further up the 'draw', quite a distance west from my building, and only observed while driving in, or getting mail. Because our meadow is a stretch of wetland, they often meander down my way, looking for water and lush grasses. But there is heavy timber and protection at the west end of the property. My first observation of our wildlife were two coyotes. They were obviously a 'couple' and they could be seen playing with each other and waiting for and pouncing on the numerous ground squirrels. My siblings and I are 4th and 5th generation Coloradoans. My paternal grandmother taught in Central City in the early 1900's. Her uncle was the first white man born there. My maternal grandfather was the lawyer to many of Colorado's "first" (prominent) citizens. My mother often spoke of coyotes as being pests and cowards, unless in a pack. They caused a great deal of problems with livestock and horses. So my opinion of them has always been colored rather negatively. But the two outside my window were just cute. Two creatures, seemingly in love, enjoying each others company. I've always enjoyed the young animals witnessed while driving up to our cabin in Big Elk. They were always scampering and playing and just having fun. The "grownups" were always to busy getting plenty to eat so as to be prepared for winter and strong enough to defend themselves and their family. I've seldom seen mature horses or cows romping around their pastures. Only the 'kids'. These two coyotes, though also intent on getting their days meals, always had time to play. One day I noticed they were on the hillside across the meadow and road beyond our area. I took out my binoculars concerned that something didn't look right. One of them barely moved from where she/he was resting. I observed an obvious limp and could tell this partner was hurting badly. The mate wandered around, not going far, looking for food to eat, but they would never be able to make it across the street and to the lush meadow teaming with all the meals they would need. It would be a day or two before a lone coyote would wander in front of my window, alone. Some may call me crazy, but those who know, understand that I had no problem 'reading' the sadness and loneliness of that coyote who would wander the meadow alone from then on. My heart broke for him/her. I would never see a mate with him/her that year. Life is cruel for all God's creatures.

Time warp back to November 2005

For many months many of us living at Pine Knoll have lived in a state of flux. We have been warned that we would most likely be losing our housing.(Senior and handicapped) Many of us have been living in a state of panic wondering where we could possibly find affordable housing up here. Way to many have left town, some had to leave the state. The atmosphere and meetings are filled with the angry and/or depressed. Moving is not only hard on our older and/or weakened bodies, but is so expensive. Like all the others I have put my applications in to the few affordable, assisted units. God has helped me not to panic to much. Maybe I should have been more worried? No, He has taken care of me and looked out for me in a way I never saw coming. I received word that I could get a place at a relatively new complex run by the Loveland Housing Authority and the Estes Park Housing Authority jointly. This place is pristine. I have been packing for probably close to 6 months. The manager of Talons Pointe and director of Estes Park Housing have been to my small one bedroom apartment to "see how I live" and if I would be a good tenant. I moved from a 3 bedroom house, and have been sorting through the families large storage unit for years and the expressions on their faces scare me, but all they see are boxes piled on boxes. I would get a two bedroom unit, but my staying would be contingent on my not living amongst boxes after moving in! I promise I swear. After all, I've been packing!
The papers are signed the end of November. The weather has been unseasonably beautiful and warm for the last few months. Would that hold out for the move? No. It would be Christmas Eve before my final inspection took place, and it has been bitter cold and windy all month. The flight of stairs I am leaving behind have just about 'done me in'. Some friends and the Knights of Columbus helped move the large items, and 3 truck loads of boxes. I have taken carloads of 'stuff' over almost every day and wonder if I will ever be moved in. What better day to officially leave my old apartment and finally settle into the new one. I left from the final inspection and headed straight to Denver to celebrate Christmas with my family. What a relief and break for me. I would be house sitting for my son, and it would be about a month before I was home long enough to start unpacking. At least four pieces of furniture didn't survive or make the move. That's OK, I don't need them, much. The move, especially the lifting and stairs did a "real number" on my knees and back. In February I would have to have back surgery to remove plates and screws placed years ago. At least one screw had been working it's way out of the bone and was constantly irritating a nerve root. Agony, pure and simple.
This was when I would have my first sign that God truly wanted me here, and loved ones 'passed over' were with me. See, "Evidence of wildlife guides".