Return to Cathedral Spires

It felt a little like Summer, but the sun is too low and the calendar says that it’s still early May. The buds on the trees knew it was Spring, and the bugs from all over were clearly aware, too. The warmth and approaching afternoon thunderstorms, however, were all appropriate for a different season entirely.

Last time I visited the South Platte, ice covered parts of the river in the early part of this year. I also visited back in February 2023, when I found similar conditions near Foxton on the North Fork of the South Platte. Maybe it was just the jarring juxtaposition of the frozen mountain stream I last visited with the scene before me, but it took a while for me to adjust on my latest trip.

From the south, the exposed rocks of the Spires tumble down the hillside—in geological time, that is. The northern slopes are shaded, keeping moisture longer, while the southern slopes weather the extreme sunlight.

This time, the river ran cloudy and fast, fueled by runoff and recent storms and free from any ice. Perhaps, glaciers in the past, flowing over the boulders dropped off the mountain, would be ground down into smaller and smaller shapes. But for now, the area near Foxton has two sources of great rocks that have been deposited in the river as if carelessly cast away and discarded.

Clouds were about to make a dramatic entrance, but were only playfully coalescing and dissipating over the river in the warm midday sun. The afternoon thunderstorms were still a ways off, but still inexorably approaching.

The rock faces are spectacular, in and of themselves, with vertical ascents and trails. Capped by the occasional cloud or several, the peaks stood out from the forest, rising above the rocky shore of the river.

I was joined by a motorcycle rider who stopped briefly on his weekly trip from Evergreen to Woodland Park. I apologized for the noise of the drone, but he said he had already had lost track of it until I pointed out that the drone was flying about 100 feet above us. However, the rustle of the trees in the wind and the splashing of the river became an audible drone to mask the sound of the electronic one in the air.

We talked for a bit before he rode off, mentioning the drought and lack of snow cover. National Weather Service shared statistics from the Denver office showing that March was dry, but April was wetter, and a little warmer on average than previous Aprils as well.

I was left alone in my little world, and I had stumbled upon another theme for the musical creations I’m making over at my Patreon page (maybe you can guess, or you can sign up for free to get news and announcements as a supporter). This month, I’m featuring “The Secret Garden” as part of Drones for the Little Prince, a large-scale project that could last all summer long. A new month needs a new theme, so I’ve found one for June.

You probably can’t see where I’m standing in the above panorama, so here’s a telephoto view from over the river. I was surprised that I didn’t see more people fishing here, as I see many downstream doing that here in town—perhaps, it’s just more remote here. I’m glad that I can still travel here to experience nature in its vast, yet increasingly familiar, terrain.

One note about AI: the photo editor I used wanted to remove my truck from the above photo. No thanks, that truck has served me faithfully! Also, the resulting image wasn’t very convincing that it wasn’t edited in a ham-fisted and naïve way. I could do the same effect better—although it would take much longer—in a typical image editor. But this reminds me to share that I will point out the use of AI when it appears on these pages. I pledge also that I won’t use AI to write the accompanying text, either, but you might have already guessed that!

Thanks for reading all the way to the end! Please share this with anyone you know who would be interested in the Colorado HIGH SKY!