TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS TOP PICK: “INDIGENOUS TIES”

My name is Montoya Whiteman. I am an enrolled member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma. I moved to Colorado in 2007, returning to the ancestral homelands of my people who were forced out after the tragedy of Sand Creek. I am a descendant of Vister and White Buffalo Woman, who were in Black Kettle's clan.

Today, I live in Brighton with my rescue pup, Tazi. In my free time, I volunteer at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal (RMA). I love the RMA. I volunteer because I love the wildlife. I enjoy meeting people and educating visitors and staff of Colorado and tribal histories. I am deeply connected to this land as a Cheyenne and Arapaho woman.

In 2020, I was driving the RMA and came upon a traffic jam after Mile Marker 3. The bison herd were crossing the road and causing major road block. I was among the crowd of cars and people who were observing the bison as they were going about their day. As I was driving away, I looked to my left and I saw this image. I stopped - backed-up - and voila! I caught this image of three bull bison grazing in close proximity to each other. The European Starling also happened to be riding on the back of one of the bison. Symbiosis. I've never seen anything like it! I will probably never see this again. Enjoy 3+1!

ROCKY MOUNTAIN ARSENAL, NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Montoya Whiteman

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS TOP PICK: “WORKIN’ IT”

KEEPING THE WET

When I see a wetland,
I see the clouds.
Lifting off the western desert,
Up and over
The crest of the continent.

When I see a wetland,
I see the snowflakes
Piling ever higher up on the Divide,
White on white,
Winter’s delight!

When I see a wetland,
I see the high country snow
Melting into rivulets,
Dancing down a steep mountainside,
Joining forces,
Making a river.

When I see a wetland,
I hear the teeming life,
The song, the chirp,
The quack, the honk
And the fluttering call
Of 20,000 Sandhill cranes,
Announcing the arrival of spring!

READ THE COMPLETE POEM - CLICK HERE

By Rio de la Vista

COLVILLE FAMILY’S CORSET RANCH ON THE RIO GRANDE IN RIO GRANDE COUNTY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Rio de la Vista

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS TOP PICK: “FELL IN LOVE - AND STAYED”

I moved to Colorado to start a new life away from repressed feelings of wrong-doings. In Nebraska, the judicial system temporarily imperiled me and awakened me to disparities of racial injustice. As I began to pick up the broken fragments of myself, I found respite in the melodic powers of nature. Having access to Colorado's outdoors afforded me opportunities to become intimate with my emotions, to calm the rage inside me, to seek out self-compassion and embellish moments of joy and comfort. It opened doors unimaginable and lifted me out of that dark place of heartache, shame and guilt. I began to appreciate my successes and my failures as moments to cherish. I stepped into each day knowing that life is impermanent and ever changing, and like the wind, I decided to flow in harmony with it.

This connection to nature led me to help propose policy recommendations for a coalition of more than 60 local, state, and national organizations to find solutions to the racial, economic, and demographic disparities in access to natural areas in Colorado. The Outdoor Equity Grant Program provides meaningful, proportional, and sustainable funding to entities providing conservation, environmental, and outdoor experiences and educational opportunities for underserved youths and families.

The tenuous link between equity and government has stifled upward mobility for persons we routinely exclude or discriminate against. The Outdoor Equity Grant Program has taken a needed step in reimagining a system that better meets the needs of our present and future generations.

LONG LAKE, ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Jason Swann

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS TOP PICK: “BORN AND RAISED”

When people think of our incredible state, they automatically think of mountains, but, in fact, about half of our state is as flat as a pancake (or so it seems)—though much of it is in view of those majestic peaks that Colorado is so well-known for. The pancake part of Colorado is often overlooked. Still, it possesses the capacity to awe and inspire just as the mountains do. Colorado is so much more than "just" mountains, and though they are definitely my favorite part, I don't get to spend as much time there as I would like. But rather, I get to gaze at them from afar, and they never fail to take my breath away every time I catch a glimpse.

One of my favorite things about Colorado is that—especially along the Front Range, where I was born and raised—you can see practically forever. Wide-open, treeless plains, speckled with cottonwood-tree lined creeks and stands of ponderosa pines, stretch as far as the eye can see, right up to the fringes of the foothills and Rockies. In some places, you can see 100 miles—which feels like forever! I even find that I get somewhat claustrophobic when visiting other places where I can't see a long distance!

Though this photo isn't specifically from where I was born and raised, it demonstrates the idea that you really *can* see forever in Colorado! I captured this stunning sunset while leaving a hiking trip at Pawnee Buttes. In the far-off distance, the Front Range, including Longs Peak and Mt. Meeker, loom—over 90 miles away! As I caught a glimpse of these majestic peaks after exploring the equally majestic Pawnee Buttes, I was again reminded of the juxtaposed nature of Colorado's land. Both mountainous and "flat" inspire, and both are beautiful. Colorado is remarkable in this way. Everywhere you look—whether in the mountains or on the prairies—inspiration and beauty are easily found.

NEAR PAWNEE BUTTES, PAWNEE NATIONAL GRASSLANDS, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Sarah Malerich

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS TOP PICK: “BORN AND RAISED”

The Colorado River is one of my favorite places. The river is always there. It calms me with its silent beauty and scares me with its roaring strength. The river has created the valleys and crevices of the land. It nourishes the land as it erodes it away.

The river is always there. When I need solace it is there, when I need excitement it is there, when I need affirmation that it will be alright, it is there.

COLORADO RIVER BETWEEN SILT AND RIFLE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Lynn Shore

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS TOP PICK: “FELL IN LOVE - AND STAYED”

When I was a young boy growing up in Kansas, I dreamed of living in, as my hermit uncle called it, the High Country. Uncle Arnie lived, with scurrying Chipmunks, in a sod roofed, 1880s cabin near Tincup and his stories of life in Taylor Park in the 1940s and 50s were the source of those dreams. He never owned the cabin, he simply appropriated it and made it habitable for his summers in the High Country. He scratched out a little gold from time to time, did odd jobs when he could, but mostly lived a subsistence lifestyle until the fruit was ripe on the western slope and he could earn some money picking apples and peaches. Then he would return to Kansas to spend the winter with my grandparents, doing it all over again when Spring arrived and he could get back to the cabin.

I first came to Colorado around 1957. While still on the eastern plains, my grandfather, Arnie’s dad, asked me if I saw those clouds that were just coming into view on the horizon. My six-year-old, flatlands-of-Kansas eyes told me that they kind of looked like clouds, but there was something different about them. Then, with a chuckle, he told me, “Those are mountains!” By the time I was old enough to drive myself in the late 1960s, I spent all the time I could in the High Country, often at Arnie’s cabin. He taught me many things, not the least of which was how to catch Browns and Brookies. Better yet, how to fry them with cornmeal, sizzling in bacon grease in a cast iron skillet over an open fire.

Finally, more than thirty years ago, and long after Uncle Arnie’s spirit took flight to soar amongst the peaks, I got the opportunity to move to the High Country. Today I live in the shadow of Mt. Antero and time and again, I watch it change, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, season to season.

In this image, Spring winds come with a vengeance to the High Country in a timeless battle with the warming rays of the sun. The winds will have their way for another few weeks before the sun prevails and the spindrift no longer dances on the jagged, rocky ridges. Flake by flake the snow will begin to melt and drop by drop, trickle through the cracks and crevices as icy cold, crystal clear water rushing down the slopes on its way to the sea.

CHAFFEE COUNTY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Dan Downing

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS TOP PICK: “WORKIN’ IT”

We have been growing grain on this land for five generations, nearly 100 years.

We hope to be growing here for another 100 more, if we can save this land, save this farm. If we're lucky, maybe we even save a few of the neighboring farms around it.

Development in the Front Range has put the pressure on farmers: land is expensive, water is scarce, our irrigation streams are re-routed to the growing suburbs. We could sell the land. Move where it's quieter and cheaper, where we're not struggling to maintain our fields in the midst of growing neighborhoods.

But someone has to grow food for the community. We know how to do it. We know every inch of this land, its quirks, its patterns, its capability. We know how to plant corn, grow barley and raise cattle.

So we're choosing to stay. Choosing to fight to protect the farmland around us. Choosing to keep agriculture in the midst of development.

And on days when it's rough, we take the crew on a walk through a thriving field of barley, just to remember what we're capable of. What this land is capable of. Why we're here...and why we stay.

OLANDER FARMS, FRONT RANGE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Emily Sierra Photography for Olander Farms

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS STAFF PICK: “FELL IN LOVE - AND STAYED”

People have been coming to Colorado for over 10,000 years. East of Colorado Springs, just outside Calhan, on the edge of the prairie, sits one of those reasons people have been drawn to Colorado, Paint Mines Interpretive Park.

Here, the earth is gashed open to reveal brightly colored clays. These clays, filled with oxidized iron, were gathered by Indigenous peoples over 9,000 years ago, and used to make decorative paints.

The approach to the site in no way prepares you for what you find there. The town of Calhan is a local farm and ranching gathering spot. If you come into town from the north, via the Calhan Highway, besides seeing achingly beautiful prairie vistas, you'll pass by an Orthodox church, complete with an onion dome steeple. This charming building shows the history of 19th and early 20th century immigration to the Colorado plains from eastern Europe.

As you drive south of Calhan on Paint Mines Road, you pass by Calhan High School, an El Paso County Fairground, and El Paso County Raceway, a quarter-mile dirt track that has races twice a month throughout the summer. And yet, the most visible thing in the area is a true 21st century item, the windmills of an electricity-generating wind farm.

If you park in the first lot at the park, you still cannot see the reason for the park. However, a short hike around a bluff or two, and then you see it, acres of eroded hoodoos in the most amazing, rich tints of purple, ochre, buff yellow, bright white, and deep brown. In places, the hoodoos reach 20 to 25 feet above your head. This is truly a magical place, and even without the need to gather these clays for use, it's easy to see why this location has drawn people to it for over nine millennia.

On one of my most recent trips to Paint Mines I was casually shooting, not to take any great pictures, but shooting mostly to force myself to look closely and pay attention to the details of the clays. And then, by chance, I looked up and saw that besides the striking colors Mother Earth was sharing with me, Father Sky decided to join the chorus of beauty and so lit up the sky with an equally dazzling, if ephemeral set of complementary colors. I grabbed a quick shot, and then put the camera away and just sat and enjoyed the beauty of the moment. A beauty that I shared with people for at least 10,000 years.

PAINT MINE INTERPRETIVE PARK, NEAR CALHAN, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Todd Warnke

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS STAFF PICK: “FELL IN LOVE - AND STAYED”

As an avid reader, I always stop at little libraries when I see one. I never know what books I'm going to come across, but I'm always excited to see what's in store. They give me a glimpse into what people in the area read and spark an interest in a topic that might not have otherwise crossed my mind. They also remind me how important community is to people and how something as simple as a little library can be effective at connecting people in a fairly rugged and remote corner of the state. I came across this one in McElmo Canyon on the way to a hike in the Canyons of the Ancients National Monument, and it is one of my all-time favorites. You can tell by the sign, the hardware, the woodwork, and even the lights strung up around it that the community put some time in to it and it was taken care of. I also liked how it sat upon a rock to protect it. I couldn't stick around until dark, but I've always wanted to go back and get a photograph of it when it was lit up.

MCELMO CANYON, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Patrick Gardner

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS STAFF PICK: “INDIGENOUS TIES”

My name is Montoya Whiteman. I am an enrolled member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma. I moved to Colorado in 2007, returning to the ancestral homelands of my people who were forced out after the tragedy of Sand Creek. I am a descendant of Vister and White Buffalo Woman, who were in Black Kettle's clan.

Today, I live in Brighton with my rescue pup, Tazi. In my free time, I volunteer at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal (RMA). I love the RMA. I volunteer because I love the wildlife. I enjoy meeting people and educating visitors and staff of Colorado and Tribal histories. I am deeply connected to this land as a Cheyenne and Arapaho woman.

In 2020, I was driving the RMA on a quiet day. Somedays I spend hours at the RMA because there is abundant beauty, and plenty of birds and animals to see. I passed First Creek when I saw to my left a red tail hawk (Hawk #1) fly to a low tree with a vole in its claws. I observed the hawk as it ate the vole. Wild kingdom. A few yards off to the west, a different red-tailed hawk landed in a tree. Hawk #1 saw Hawk #2 - finished the vole and flew to the tree to meet Hawk #2. Let the fireworks begin! For a few minutes they stared down each other with some squawking and head bobbing from where they sat in high and low branches. Hawk #1 flew closer to Hawk #2. There was more staring down then Hawk #1 stretched out its wing in a display of strength and intimidation. Hawk #2 got really mad and stretched out its head almost head-butting Hawk #1. They both couldn't take each other any longer and the sparring ensued with talons out and wings flapping. One hawk landed on the ground and the other on a high tree branch. I don't know who won that hawk fight, but I sure won! It was a thrill witnessing these beautiful raptors "duke it out"!

ROCKY MOUNTAIN ARSENAL NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Montoya Whiteman

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS STAFF PICK: “BORN AND RAISED”

You might often wonder, what lies beyond-
Life, planets, galaxies
Into the abyss, no one responds.

Cold summer nights like these,
Staring to the sky,
From the drop of the tailgate,
Deep in the Rockies.

Grabbing my camera for a picture,
With light pollution scarce,
Gaze toward the sky,
Where the stars are a fixture.

In that moment, you feel so small,
Problems, pain and sadness
Disappear from your senses,
And reach up toward the sky,
When the Milky Way calls.

VAIL PASS, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Sean McNeil

TAPESTRY OF PHOTOS STAFF PICK: “FELL IN LOVE - AND STAYED”

I call Colorado my home, my homestead, my playground and my muse. The endless sky, and enormous palate of nature, every color we have ever seen, can imagine, and more, I am endlessly in awe at the beauty of the world I live in. The same tree looks different every day, if only I stop long enough to notice. If I capture the day, when the uniqueness of today reveals itself in just the right light.

And when I get complacent, about another sunrise, sunset, singing bird, or horses in the distance, I have the reflection of the awe of nature reflected in my son’s eye. And my insatiable desire, to pick up the camera, and capture what I see.

One of my favorite things to do is go on a photo adventure with my son. We like to take pictures of animals, birds, farms, old things, new things. On this particular day, the sky was moving, it was a bit moody and just beautiful over this barn. It spoke to us.

IN BETWEEN ERIE AND LONGMONT, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Bari Gisin

Last Chance Module is an art installation just outside of the town of Last Chance. It's off a very rural road and you have to want to get there in order to see it. Like so many places in rural Colorado, you have to keep your eyes open and you will see many amazing things.

LAST CHANCE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Ernest Nitka

When people think of our incredible state, they automatically think of mountains, but, in fact, about half of our state is as flat as a pancake (or so it seems)—though much of it is in view of those majestic peaks that Colorado is so well-known for. The pancake part of Colorado is often overlooked. Still, it possesses the capacity to awe and inspire just as the mountains do. Colorado is so much more than "just" mountains, and though they are definitely my favorite part, I don't get to spend as much time there as I would like. But rather, I get to gaze at them from afar, and they never fail to take my breath away every time I catch a glimpse.

One of my favorite things about Colorado is that—especially along the Front Range, where I was born and raised—you can see practically forever. Wide-open, treeless plains, speckled with cottonwood-tree lined creeks and stands of ponderosa pines, stretch as far as the eye can see, right up to the fringes of the foothills and Rockies. In some places, you can see 100 miles—which feels like forever! I even find that I get somewhat claustrophobic when visiting other places where I can't see a long distance!

Though this photo isn't specifically from where I was born and raised, it demonstrates the idea that you really *can* see forever in Colorado! I captured this stunning sunset while leaving a hiking trip at Pawnee Buttes. In the far-off distance, the Front Range, including Longs Peak and Mt. Meeker, loom—over 90 miles away! As I caught a glimpse of these majestic peaks after exploring the equally majestic Pawnee Buttes, I was again reminded of the juxtaposed nature of Colorado's land. Both mountainous and "flat" inspire, and both are beautiful. Colorado is remarkable in this way. Everywhere you look—whether in the mountains or on the prairies—inspiration and beauty are easily found.

NEAR PAWNEE BUTTES, PAWNEE NATIONAL GRASSLANDS, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Sarah Malerich

My name is Montoya Whiteman. I am an enrolled member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma. I moved to Colorado in 2007, returning to the ancestral homelands of my people who were forced out after the tragedy of Sand Creek. I am a descendant of Vister and White Buffalo Woman, who were in Black Kettle's clan.

Today, I live in Brighton with my rescue pup, Tazi. In my free time, I volunteer at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal (RMA). I love the RMA. I volunteer because I love the wildlife. I enjoy meeting people and educating visitors and staff of Colorado and tribal histories. I am deeply connected to this land as a Cheyenne and Arapaho woman.

In 2020, I was driving the RMA and came upon a traffic jam after Mile Marker 3. The bison herd were crossing the road and causing major road block. I was among the crowd of cars and people who were observing the bison as they were going about their day. As I was driving away, I looked to my left and I saw this image. I stopped - backed-up - and voila! I caught this image of three bull bison grazing in close proximity to each other. The European Starling also happened to be riding on the back of one of the bison. Symbiosis. I've never seen anything like it! I will probably never see this again. Enjoy 3+1!

ROCKY MOUNTAIN ARSENAL, NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Montoya Whiteman

My name is Montoya Whiteman. I am an enrolled member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma. I moved to Colorado in 2007, returning to the ancestral homelands of my people who were forced out after the tragedy of Sand Creek. I am a descendant of Vister and White Buffalo Woman, who were in Black Kettle's clan.

Today, I live in Brighton with my rescue pup, Tazi. In my free time, I volunteer at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal (RMA). I love the RMA. I volunteer because I love the wildlife. I enjoy meeting people and educating visitors and staff of Colorado and Tribal histories. I am deeply connected to this land as a Cheyenne and Arapaho woman.

In 2020, I was driving the RMA on a quiet day. Somedays I spend hours at the RMA because there is abundant beauty, and plenty of birds and animals to see. I passed First Creek when I saw to my left a red tail hawk (Hawk #1) fly to a low tree with a vole in its claws. I observed the hawk as it ate the vole. Wild kingdom. A few yards off to the west, a different red-tailed hawk landed in a tree. Hawk #1 saw Hawk #2 - finished the vole and flew to the tree to meet Hawk #2. Let the fireworks begin! For a few minutes they stared down each other with some squawking and head bobbing from where they sat in high and low branches. Hawk #1 flew closer to Hawk #2. There was more staring down then Hawk #1 stretched out its wing in a display of strength and intimidation. Hawk #2 got really mad and stretched out its head almost head-butting Hawk #1. They both couldn't take each other any longer and the sparring ensued with talons out and wings flapping. One hawk landed on the ground and the other on a high tree branch. I don't know who won that hawk fight, but I sure won! It was a thrill witnessing these beautiful raptors "duke it out"!

ROCKY MOUNTAIN ARSENAL NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Montoya Whiteman

You may think that this photo is about the woman riding her bike. And you’re right. That’s Jodi. She’s overcome great obstacles in her life to become a strong, beautiful, intelligent, kind, hard-working woman.

You might think that this photo is about mountain biking. That’s true. Mountain biking to me is therapy, an activity that has helped me to grow, laugh, cry, sigh, and experience awe in so many ways and places. Some of my best experiences in Colorado are thanks to exploring on my bike – with my friends, my children, and at events. I’ve watched storms roll in down the canyon, seen herds of Bighorn sheep grazing on steep slopes, and found solace on singletrack trails in the mountains.

You might also think that this photo is about the trail. It is. The trail is Dreamweaver, one of 22 miles of trail established at the Royal Gorge Park in Cañon City, Colorado. It’s a trail that we watched being built after years of advocacy and diligent planning and funding. It’s a trail that prompts you to sing the 1975 hit of the same name while you’re riding – wind in your hair and view of the Sangres looming on the horizon.

But this photo is really about the trees. They are the remains of two beautiful piñons, one of the predominant tree types in our high mountain desert region. In June of 2013, we watched in fear as the Royal Gorge Fire scorched hundreds of acres of land near our homes and businesses in Cañon City. It burned several buildings at the Royal Gorge Bridge & Park but left the bridge itself still standing. As the flames traveled closer to our community, fueled by high winds and dry conditions, we held our breath. Firefighters were able to put it out, and in the months afterward, we surveyed the changed landscape. Black and charred, the barren topography was startling and new. After the first rain, ash and debris cascaded into the Arkansas River, turning the normally clear water a deep black. Storms scoured the landscape and washed it clean. In subsequent years, developing trails allowed access to previously inaccessible areas, including this spot, which bisected these two pale, majestic reminders of the fire’s power. As sentinels on the hill, they stood as a reminder and a stunning representation of what had been.

Land endures so much in Colorado – the passage of time, human development, the migration of wildlife, the ebb and flow of civilization as we find minerals and agricultural riches, changing climates, fire. The land at the Royal Gorge was changed by the fire – its hillsides stripped of oak and juniper. Nevertheless, from the ash, the native vegetation returned and greenery was restored. Groups in the area even planted small saplings among the ghostly trunks – like the ones in this photo – to help stabilize the soil and encourage regrowth.

This photo was taken in 2017 when the land had weathered four summers after the fire – growing, changing, and regenerating. We knew that these two beautiful trees would eventually fall. This past winter, they did. Riding past them for the first time lying prose on the ground, branches wrenched and broken, we paused. It was a reminder that life moves forward. Things grow, they burn, they fall, they return. The land teaches us that life is transient, but it is also incredibly beautiful. As it grows, we grow. As it changes, we change. Tennyson wrote, “I am part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch…”, and though that arch may fall, our memories of it – and the connection with the land on which it stood - will never be lost.

ROYAL GORGE TRAILS, CAÑON CITY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Ashlee Sack

KEEPING THE WET

When I see a wetland,
I see the clouds.
Lifting off the western desert,
Up and over
The crest of the continent.

When I see a wetland,
I see the snowflakes
Piling ever higher up on the Divide,
White on white,
Winter’s delight!

When I see a wetland,
I see the high country snow
Melting into rivulets,
Dancing down a steep mountainside,
Joining forces,
Making a river.

When I see a wetland,
I hear the teeming life,
The song, the chirp,
The quack, the honk
And the fluttering call
Of 20,000 Sandhill cranes,
Announcing the arrival of spring!

READ THE COMPLETE POEM - CLICK HERE

By Rio de la Vista

COLVILLE FAMILY’S CORSET RANCH ON THE RIO GRANDE IN RIO GRANDE COUNTY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Rio de la Vista

This photo was taken from a conserved working farm property near Mancos, Colorado while I was performing the required annual site visit. It was taken on one of the very rare days we received precipitation here in the southwest. I love the photo because I believe it demonstrates the importance and beauty of water to working lands. Rain water contains more nitrogen in it than typical ground water and is so critical for our farms. Water is truly the story of the West.

NEAR MANCOS, COLORADO

Photo Credit: James Reimann

Colorado is a photographer's paradise. From sprawling landscapes to the diverse wildlife, there are so many opportunities to capture wonderful images. When it comes to wildlife, the Rocky Mountain Arsenal is my go-to location. This beautiful blue heron was near one of the lakes. The shot was taken from my vehicle with a 400mm lens so as not to scare the bird. The wonderful contrast of the bird and its surroundings are very fitting for "Colorful" Colorado.

ROCKY MOUNTAIN ARSENAL, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Doug Shatto

Every February, ice climbers from around the world challenge the unique ice walls of a narrow canyon outside Ouray. The curtain of ice clinging to the rock walls provides both an opportunity to test the physical stamina and skills of the climbers, and the ability of a photographer to "get the shot". In this photo, the pull of gravity on the climber’s hair is counter-balanced by the tenacious bite of the climber’s ice axes and crampon spikes, suspending time and space for a moment of awe and beauty surrounded by a tapestry of ice.

OURAY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Jamie Zartman

The Colorado River is a precious water resource that supplies much of the west with water. The six gates across this roller dam in De Beque Canyon were designed and constructed over one hundred years ago to allow water to flow over the dam, while diverting some into a canal for irrigation. You can see from my photo that the water levels reduced by a mega drought are much lower than in previous decades, and are why we must all work harder to conserve this most precious resource to ensure that the Colorado will continue to roll in the future.

DE BEQUE CANYON NEAR PALISADE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Jamie Zartman

This image is of a fly fisherman caught in his perfect motion during a casting at a Gold Medal water area on the Eagle River. The frozen curve line in mid-air depicts the art of angling. The Colorado Wildlife Commission designates rivers that provide great spots to catch large trout as ‘Gold Medal Waters.’ Only 322 miles of Colorado's 9000 miles carry this title.

EAGLE RIVER, EAGLE COUNTY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Raj Manickam

Went to see the destruction of the Hayman Fire to take some photographs I could share with my class at Metro State University regarding wildland fire investigation, and came across this area that the fire had leapfrogged over, leaving this pristine oasis amongst the burn scars. I try to visit the creek at least twice a year to enjoy its calming and tranquil setting. It has a restorative effect where I find peace and joy. A hidden gem.

GOOSE CREEK, PIKE NATIONAL FOREST, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Thomas Netwal

I've lived on the Front Range for 9 years now. Brought here by a random road trip in 2010. I had a burgeoning love for the national parks, satiated with a terminus in Mesa Verde. I knew after that trip I wanted to be here, making subsequent summer excursions until committing to the final move in 2013. Years later a new passion, photography, crashed head-on with the desire to have a career in the outdoors. I found myself visiting a friend in Glenwood Springs with a side trip to the ghostly mountain town of Ashford. Discarding my digital camera for film, I took the picture you see now. Done so with a camera given to me by my mother, one she used to take snap shots of me and my brothers as children. Shooting that film negative was so important in that place and with that camera. It had taken nearly ten years, but capturing an image, on film, of such a preserved area has spurred me into a career where I can make a daily difference. I am now a park ranger on the Front Range. Last year I documented my first year as a ranger on a variety of films and digital cameras. But this is where it all started, a moment captured in time. Inspiring a man lost in what to do next, to make that next thing count.

ASHCROFT GHOST TOWN, PITKIN COUNTY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Michael Caparbi

Ever since a trip through southwest Colorado in the 1960s with my parents, I have been entranced by "The Little Switzerland of America". We try to schedule a week-long visit to the area about every three years. Last year the changing aspens were probably the best I've ever seen, but sunrise and sunset mountain images just weren't materializing. After a day trip to Telluride, we stopped at the Dallas Divide overlook in hopes of one last chance at a sunset photo. I became engaged in a conversation with a young gentleman who also had been frustrated with sunset vistas and it was also his last day for photography, as the next day he was headed back to Thailand (after 12 years in NY) to care for his mother who was recently widowed. Just as we were parting, we turned and looked at Mount Sneffels and the last light of day managed to caress the peak. I will always remember that moment, and also hope that the young Thai embraces the day as well.

SAN JUAN MOUNTAIN RANGE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Thomas Netwal

This is a photo of a prairie dog pup greeting its mother as she returns to the den from eating in a field of wildflowers.

I recently moved to Colorado from South Louisiana, and as a wildlife/nature photographer, was on the lookout for Colorado wildlife. While hiking with my camera one afternoon I found a large field with a prairie dog colony, and started taking pictures (this shot being my favorite from that day). Being that I'm originally from South Louisiana, I was got curious about prairie dogs, and was surprised to learn that these little mammals are quite unique in their own way. Some studies have shown that their communication is more advanced than that of dolphins and chimpanzees. Not only can prairie dogs warn other members of their colony when a person approaches, but they can also let them know what color shirt the person is wearing (or at least identify the person that way), and tell if the person is short or tall. They are also good engineers, and are known to create drainage systems in the colonies.

Being new to Colorado, I look forward to photographing and learning about the unique wildlife in the state.

BOULDER, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Joseph Hamner

One evening I was running one of the Boulder Valley Open Space trails, and on my way back toward my car I noticed the evening sun shining down on a field of dandelions. When I noticed the evening light reflecting off the white dandelions I knew it would make a great photo. Unfortunately, I had left my cameras at home since I was going running. The next evening I went back with my cameras, hoping that the wind hadn't blown the seed heads off of the dandelion stalks. Fortunately the seed heads were still intact, and I was able to get some great photos (such as this one).

One thing that is unique about the dandelions here in Colorado is that they are huge compared to the ones back in South Louisiana. Back in the south the dandelions are about the size of a golf ball, but out here in Colorado I've seen some as big as a softball.

BOULDER, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Joseph Hamner

I am blessed to see Pike's Peak and the range all the way to Cheyenne Mountain, from each of my west-facing windows and deck. So it is always on my mind and in my heart.

I wanted to spend the day up on the mountain just enjoying the beauty and to do my best to take a few good pictures. While up there, I drove out to the Catamount Reservoirs and took a hike on a trail between the two reservoirs.

As I was coming out of the woods I could see the mountains through the trees and over the water and I knew I was in paradise.

This is why I love living in Colorado.

SOUTH CATAMOUNT RESERVOIR AND PIKE’S PEAK, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Ken Carr

Colorado: A True Love Story

I’ve climbed mountains so high above the cloud’s that heaven’s gates seemed only a staircase away. Slept under the glistening petals of the Milky Way and woke to the horizon of God's fiery blaze - a reminder that darkness is impermanent. I've learned to speak the language of the earth through the soles of my feet; journeyed for hundreds of miles to be closer to her equanimity; her enormity of care; her fortress of solitude. I’ve met explorers, farmers, ranchers, hunters and anglers, environmental activists and outdoor enthusiasts. But NEVER have I met a love so potent, so forgiving and unscathed, righteous and true. Though I’ll be gone, I won’t forget you, Colorado; my first love and my forever dream come true.

GREAT SAND DUNES NATIONAL PARK AND PRESERVE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Jason Swann

I moved to Colorado to start a new life away from repressed feelings of wrong-doings. In Nebraska, the judicial system temporarily imperiled me and awakened me to disparities of racial injustice. As I began to pick up the broken fragments of myself, I found respite in the melodic powers of nature. Having access to Colorado's outdoors afforded me opportunities to become intimate with my emotions, to calm the rage inside me, to seek out self-compassion and embellish moments of joy and comfort. It opened doors unimaginable and lifted me out of that dark place of heartache, shame and guilt. I began to appreciate my successes and my failures as moments to cherish. I stepped into each day knowing that life is impermanent and ever changing, and like the wind, I decided to flow in harmony with it.

This connection to nature led me to help propose policy recommendations for a coalition of more than 60 local, state, and national organizations to find solutions to the racial, economic, and demographic disparities in access to natural areas in Colorado. The Outdoor Equity Grant Program provides meaningful, proportional, and sustainable funding to entities providing conservation, environmental, and outdoor experiences and educational opportunities for underserved youths and families.

The tenuous link between equity and government has stifled upward mobility for persons we routinely exclude or discriminate against. The Outdoor Equity Grant Program has taken a needed step in reimagining a system that better meets the needs of our present and future generations.

LONG LAKE, ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Jason Swann

I've always been drawn to water, and until moving to Colorado, I spent a lot of my time at the ocean. Standing on a beach trying to comprehend the expansiveness and sheer size of the ocean makes you feel small, and it's a very numinous and humbling experience. For me, nothing has come close to matching that same feeling until moving to Colorado and spending time in the vastness of the Rocky Mountains. I have driven across the state and past the Blue Mesa Reservoir dozens of times, but on this day, there was a storm rolling through. Between the wind and the rain, some nice waves started to come in and I was able to sit and relax for a short while before the storm came in and swallowed up the view. It wasn't the same as staring off at the ocean, but I did feel humbled by the experience and having this photograph to look back is a good reminder for me to always appreciate water and the natural world, and more importantly, to stay humble.

BLUE MESA RESERVOIR, CURECANTI NATIONAL RECREATION AREA, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Patrick Gardner

As an avid reader, I always stop at little libraries when I see one. I never know what books I'm going to come across, but I'm always excited to see what's in store. They give me a glimpse into what people in the area read and spark an interest in a topic that might not have otherwise crossed my mind. They also remind me how important community is to people and how something as simple as a little library can be effective at connecting people in a fairly rugged and remote corner of the state. I came across this one in McElmo Canyon on the way to a hike in the Canyons of the Ancients National Monument, and it is one of my all-time favorites. You can tell by the sign, the hardware, the woodwork, and even the lights strung up around it that the community put some time in to it and it was taken care of. I also liked how it sat upon a rock to protect it. I couldn't stick around until dark, but I've always wanted to go back and get a photograph of it when it was lit up.

MCELMO CANYON, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Patrick Gardner

Colorado has so many icon spots to visit, and Hanging Lake is certainly one of those. But, just as in life, where much of the joy is in the journey and not just the destination, so it is with the hike to Hanging Lake.

The trail itself is relatively short, but it is steep. Fortunately, there are many places along the trail to stop and rest, with many of those beside Dead Horse Creek. There, the lush water invites, and is often accompanied by a cooling breeze as well. For those like me who are often looking for an excuse to stop and rest that is more than just the admission that "I'm tired", this is all the excuse I need to stop, rest, and drink in the beauty that we find along the path. This makes Dead Horse Creek one of my favorite places in Colorado.

DEAD HORSE CREEK, ON THE TRAIL TO HANGING LAKE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Todd Warnke

People have been coming to Colorado for over 10,000 years. East of Colorado Springs, just outside Calhan, on the edge of the prairie, sits one of those reasons people have been drawn to Colorado, Paint Mines Interpretive Park.

Here, the earth is gashed open to reveal brightly colored clays. These clays, filled with oxidized iron, were gathered by Indigenous peoples over 9,000 years ago, and used to make decorative paints.

The approach to the site in no way prepares you for what you find there. The town of Calhan is a local farm and ranching gathering spot. If you come into town from the north, via the Calhan Highway, besides seeing achingly beautiful prairie vistas, you'll pass by an Orthodox church, complete with an onion dome steeple. This charming building shows the history of 19th and early 20th century immigration to the Colorado plains from eastern Europe.

As you drive south of Calhan on Paint Mines Road, you pass by Calhan High School, an El Paso County Fairground, and El Paso County Raceway, a quarter-mile dirt track that has races twice a month throughout the summer. And yet, the most visible thing in the area is a true 21st century item, the windmills of an electricity-generating wind farm.

If you park in the first lot at the park, you still cannot see the reason for the park. However, a short hike around a bluff or two, and then you see it, acres of eroded hoodoos in the most amazing, rich tints of purple, ochre, buff yellow, bright white, and deep brown. In places, the hoodoos reach 20 to 25 feet above your head. This is truly a magical place, and even without the need to gather these clays for use, it's easy to see why this location has drawn people to it for over nine millennia.

On one of my most recent trips to Paint Mines I was casually shooting, not to take any great pictures, but shooting mostly to force myself to look closely and pay attention to the details of the clays. And then, by chance, I looked up and saw that besides the striking colors Mother Earth was sharing with me, Father Sky decided to join the chorus of beauty and so lit up the sky with an equally dazzling, if ephemeral set of complementary colors. I grabbed a quick shot, and then put the camera away and just sat and enjoyed the beauty of the moment. A beauty that I shared with people for at least 10,000 years.

PAINT MINE INTERPRETIVE PARK, NEAR CALHAN, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Todd Warnke

Driving up i70,

Look out the car window to see,

A glimpse of the great Yellowstone descendants.

Bison both big and small,

Helping conserve the species for all,

Denver Parks connecting visitors to an important part of Colorado history.

Native to the lands,

Facing extinction without helping hands,

Genesee’s protected site helps enhance population recovery.

Bison are being returned to native tribes,

Tribal history and preservation inscribed,

To enhance conservation and genetic diversity for the years to come.

GENESEE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Sean McNeil

The Colorado River is one of my favorite places. The river is always there. It calms me with its silent beauty and scares me with its roaring strength. The river has created the valleys and crevices of the land. It nourishes the land as it erodes it away.

The river is always there. When I need solace it is there, when I need excitement it is there, when I need affirmation that it will be alright, it is there.

COLORADO RIVER BETWEEN SILT AND RIFLE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Lynn Shore

As a 5th-generation native of Colorado, I have grown a deep connection to the mountains of Colorado. I climbed my first 14er at age 6 and completed the 14ers in 2012. I also finished my lifelong goal of climbing the 100 highest mountains in Colorado in 2018. The Colorado mountains are and will forever be a part of my heart and soul. There is no other place on earth like the mountains of Colorado, especially the San Juan Mountains. From any given summit, one can identify and connect with hundreds of other peaks, which always sparks fond memories of adventure, time with family and friends, and a strong bond with nature.

There is no great way to describe the feelings that are evoked by experiencing a sunrise from the summit of one of Colorado's incredible mountains; however, the experience inspires personal growth, a desire to protect the land, and ideas for helping others ethically appreciate what we have here in Colorado - a glorious playground in some of nature's most pristine environments.

I hope that my photography inspires others to seek out this deep connection with Colorado's mountains and to find ways to celebrate and protect them as best as we can for future generations.

SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Matt Payne

Jefferson County Open Space has miles of hiking trails. This wood was off the path a bit, and the bright white color was what struck me. I knew I wanted to capture it in black and white.

CLEAR CREEK AREA, JEFFERSON COUNTY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Colleen Hennessy

You might often wonder, what lies beyond-
Life, planets, galaxies
Into the abyss, no one responds.

Cold summer nights like these,
Staring to the sky,
From the drop of the tailgate,
Deep in the Rockies.

Grabbing my camera for a picture,
With light pollution scarce,
Gaze toward the sky,
Where the stars are a fixture.

In that moment, you feel so small,
Problems, pain and sadness
Disappear from your senses,
And reach up toward the sky,
When the Milky Way calls.

VAIL PASS, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Sean McNeil

We have been growing grain on this land for five generations, nearly 100 years.

We hope to be growing here for another 100 more, if we can save this land, save this farm. If we're lucky, maybe we even save a few of the neighboring farms around it.

Development in the Front Range has put the pressure on farmers: land is expensive, water is scarce, our irrigation streams are re-routed to the growing suburbs. We could sell the land. Move where it's quieter and cheaper, where we're not struggling to maintain our fields in the midst of growing neighborhoods.

But someone has to grow food for the community. We know how to do it. We know every inch of this land, its quirks, its patterns, its capability. We know how to plant corn, grow barley and raise cattle.

So we're choosing to stay. Choosing to fight to protect the farmland around us. Choosing to keep agriculture in the midst of development.

And on days when it's rough, we take the crew on a walk through a thriving field of barley, just to remember what we're capable of. What this land is capable of. Why we're here...and why we stay.

OLANDER FARMS, FRONT RANGE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Emily Sierra Photography for Olander Farms

I call Colorado my home, my homestead, my playground and my muse. The endless sky, and enormous palate of nature, every color we have ever seen, can imagine, and more, I am endlessly in awe of the beauty of the world I live in. The same tree looks different every day, if only I stop long enough to notice. If I capture the day, when the uniqueness of today reveals itself in just the right light.

And when I get complacent, about another sunrise, sunset, singing bird, or horses in the distance, I have the reflection of the awe of nature reflected in my son’s eye. And my insatiable desire, to pick up the camera, and capture what I see.

This is one of my favorite shots of my husband and son. This was our 1st visit to Brainard Lake. My husband was teaching my son how to walk on a frozen lake, while others were skating or playing with their pets. The sun was high in the sky to keep the temperature just warm enough to enjoy the day.

BRAINARD LAKE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Bari Gisin

I love to visit this magical little lake every Fall. It is just so beautiful, and it is just one of the many colorful spots for adventure in the Fall. If you ever wonder what you should do when you visit Colorado....just take a drive. Colorado is packed full of scenic byways that will not only get you to where you’re headed, but will also showcase some of the best views in the state along your journey! You can find enchantment very near Beaver Lake as you traverse to the top of McClure Pass! You will not be disappointed if you take time to leaf peep in Glenwood Springs! Colorado backroads are never boring! And Colorado is amazing no matter the season, in fact, you might experience 90 degrees and snow in the same day!

BEAVER LAKE, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Lisa Downs

Last July the wildflowers at Caribou were absolutely...wild! I've never seen anything like this when my husband and I have hiked here in the past! I delayed our hike quite a bit because of all the photographs I was taking and was rewarded with light that took my breath away.

Though I am primarily a portrait photographer, I love capturing moments on my camera when I am wandering outside too. Those images always sustain me during life's darker moments.

The evening, and this photograph, could be a love letter to Colorado.

I came to Colorado from the Boston area for good in 2010. Though I had spent summers in Buena Vista as a child (my father is a geologist), I resented being pulled away from my friends from age 9-13. I hated summers here when I was a child. My home was on the east coast I thought. But then something pulled me back west in my late 40s. I was newly divorced and craved a place with wide open spaces where I could learn to breathe again; where I could figure out who I was. I knew I didn't belong in the suburbs.

After 18 years of marriage and two children, I needed a place where no one knew me to explore. Hiking was an activity I had enjoyed for many years in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, so I knew I wanted the mountains, trails and trees to help unwrap my new life. I decided to take a two-week vacation in Colorado in the summer of 2008 and the pull was magnetic. I didn’t want to go home. I made the decision to move to Boulder after my younger daughter graduated from high school.

I made the move in 2010 knowing only two people, but my life here blossomed. The lack of density and opportunities for time alone on mountain trails, opened my life and I thrived. I made new friends who loved the outdoors as much as me. I had the inspiration for lots of writing and in 2012 was awarded an Artist in Residency at Rocky Mountain National Park. My love affair with Colorado had been pretty passionate before this, but after my residency Colorado became a part of me.

I spent most of my time outdoors, sometimes at a coffee shop writing, maybe on a bike ride or hiking near Brainard Lake, but almost every day ended with an evening hike at Chautauqua. I was happy.

Then I met the man who would become my husband. We met through a friend and began a friendship that eventually grew into much more and we got married in 2016. He is my best friend.

This photograph has all the elements of the gifts Colorado has given me. From the space to roam and find myself and begin a new life, to the comfort of the mountains, trails, rivers, alpine lakes, and wildflowers, and of course, my life partner, my entire being has been soothed and strengthened.

Rob and I love to take pictures of our shadow on many of the trails we hike. This photograph, Caribou Connections, is my favorite out of those images.

CARIBOU, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Robin Salcido

I call Colorado my home, my homestead, my playground and my muse. The endless sky, and enormous palate of nature, every color we have ever seen, can imagine, and more, I am endlessly in awe at the beauty of the world I live in. The same tree looks different every day, if only I stop long enough to notice. If I capture the day, when the uniqueness of today reveals itself in just the right light.

And when I get complacent, about another sunrise, sunset, singing bird, or horses in the distance, I have the reflection of the awe of nature reflected in my son’s eye. And my insatiable desire, to pick up the camera, and capture what I see.

One of my favorite things to do is go on a photo adventure with my son. We like to take pictures of animals, birds, farms, old things, new things. On this particular day, the sky was moving, it was a bit moody and just beautiful over this barn. It spoke to us.

IN BETWEEN ERIE AND LONGMONT, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Bari Gisin

When I was a young boy growing up in Kansas, I dreamed of living in, as my hermit uncle called it, the High Country. Uncle Arnie lived, with scurrying Chipmunks, in a sod roofed, 1880s cabin near Tincup and his stories of life in Taylor Park in the 1940s and 50s were the source of those dreams. He never owned the cabin, he simply appropriated it and made it habitable for his summers in the High Country. He scratched out a little gold from time to time, did odd jobs when he could, but mostly lived a subsistence lifestyle until the fruit was ripe on the western slope and he could earn some money picking apples and peaches. Then he would return to Kansas to spend the winter with my grandparents, doing it all over again when Spring arrived and he could get back to the cabin.

I first came to Colorado around 1957. While still on the eastern plains, my grandfather, Arnie’s dad, asked me if I saw those clouds that were just coming into view on the horizon. My six-year-old, flatlands-of-Kansas eyes told me that they kind of looked like clouds, but there was something different about them. Then, with a chuckle, he told me, “Those are mountains!” By the time I was old enough to drive myself in the late 1960s, I spent all the time I could in the High Country, often at Arnie’s cabin. He taught me many things, not the least of which was how to catch Browns and Brookies. Better yet, how to fry them with cornmeal, sizzling in bacon grease in a cast iron skillet over an open fire.

Finally, more than thirty years ago, and long after Uncle Arnie’s spirit took flight to soar amongst the peaks, I got the opportunity to move to the High Country. Today I live in the shadow of Mt. Antero and time and again, I watch it change, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, season to season.

In this image, Spring winds come with a vengeance to the High Country in a timeless battle with the warming rays of the sun. The winds will have their way for another few weeks before the sun prevails and the spindrift no longer dances on the jagged, rocky ridges. Flake by flake the snow will begin to melt and drop by drop, trickle through the cracks and crevices as icy cold, crystal clear water rushing down the slopes on its way to the sea.

CHAFFEE COUNTY, COLORADO

Photo Credit: Dan Downing