Olympus OM-D EM10 Mark II

A mammal menagerie ~

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Eland scratching its neck
How to make a grown polar bear look small
Mother and baby: reticulated giraffes
Okapi portrait
Leopard pacing
Eland licking its chops
Okapis have such beautiful legs!

Of all the animals I saw at the Denver Zoo (and I didn’t get around the entire zoo), only the eland was bold enough to stand right at the front of its enclosure, getting a great deal of pleasure from rubbing its chin and neck against the scratching post and the enclosure cable. The okapi, with its gentle-looking eyes, beautiful brown coat, and modernist black-and-white legs, is one of my favorites. In-between shots, this one was munching grass. A check of Wikipedia reveals that okapis, which are endangered, are quite solitary, are most closely related to giraffes, and are “generally tranquil.” This female seemed pretty unperturbed at my presence.

The river horse ~

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This hippopotamus wrestled her ball all around her little pond, trying to bite it (apparently). She’d go underwater for several seconds and then re-emerge to engage the ball again. As I think I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I have mixed feelings about zoos. I used to think they were important for conservation efforts and education, but I recently read a New Yorker article that rather convincingly refuted that argument. The obvious boredom of many of the animals, despite “enrichment” items such as balls and other toys, pains me. I don’t so much mind seeing fish or reptiles or amphibians in tanks (some photos of those later), but for mammals the Denver Zoo strikes me as a rather sad place.

I don’t actually know that this hippo is a female; I’m just guessing. Her/his teeth, especially those tusk-like lower canines, serve as a reminder that hippos are the most dangerous animal in sub-Saharan Africa (other than humans themselves) in terms of the number of people they kill. So I’ve read, anyway.

 

Vainglory ~

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There is a photographer, Brad Wilson, who photographs wild animals in the studio against a plain backdrop. These peacocks (two of which are technically pea hens) were perched a few feet above me atop a brick wall. Since the day was overcast, the camera exposure rendered the sky almost white. So I decided to take it white all the way, crop the images, and turn them into portraits in the manner of Brad Wilson. To see some of his work, go to https://www.boredpanda.com/animal-photography-studio-brad-wilson/.

Get out of my face! ~

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Yesterday I made my first solo foray into Denver. The temperature was in the mid-seventies and I wanted to give my 60 mm macro lens (35 mm equivalent = 120 mm) a thorough workout, so I headed to the zoo. First up: some sea lions who were having a serious disagreement.

Georgetown window no. 2 ~

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Georgetown window no. 2

Georgetown window no. 2

Didn’t notice until just now that there’s someone’s head in this photo. I think I’m going to take care of that when I’m less tired. Georgetown was crowded late Saturday afternoon, probably with other folks who had headed out to see the aspens.

A peek at South Park ~

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Contrail, just west of Kenosha Pass
North of Breckinridge
Part of the Mosquito Range, south of Hoosier Pass
South Park near Como
Descending Kenosha Pass: View of South Park and the Mosquito Rangejust west of Kenosha Pass

For yesterday’s drive I skirted Denver on the west side and took U.S. Hwy. 285 over to Kenosha Pass and down to South Park. I’d been keen to see this part of Colorado ever since I read a magazine writer’s comment that, though he’d been many places in the world, the view down across South Park from the pass was his favorite. Not ever having watched the animated series “South Park,” I didn’t know that it was named after a real place. (There is also a North Park, northwest of Rocky Mountain National Park.) The designation “park” here refers to a broad plateau or basin ringed by mountains.

I stopped to eat lunch at Fairplay, then took state route 9 up through Alma (10,578 feet elev.), and over Hoosier Pass (as it turns out, there are two Hoosier Passes in Colorado, both of them—I presume—originally sited in Indiana, then trucked west and greatly enlarged). A series of hairpin turns on the other side of the pass takes you down to Breckinridge. There were still golden-leafed aspens along 285 east of Kenosha Pass and in Breckinridge; elsewhere, the aspens were mostly bare. Given the abundance of stands on the slopes, it must have looked spectacular a couple of weeks ago. Now I know an ideal driving route for seeing the fall colors in Colorado.

Aspens ~

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Rocky Mtn. Natl. Park
On the Peak-to-Peak Highway
Aspen leaves
South of Nederland, Colo.
Rocky Mtn. Natl. Park

Yesterday I took my sister for a 7-hour drive to see the aspens in their fall colors. We drove from Loveland to Boulder, up Boulder Canyon, down the Peak-to-Peak Highway, up Hwy. 40 to Granby, up Hwy. 34 to Rocky Mountain National Park, and across Trail Ridge Road. We didn’t stop for photos very often, but here are a few.

No guardrails ~

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Almost above the tree line, Old Fall River Road
Old Fall River Road
At Chasm Falls
View from the Alpine Visitors Center, with Old Fall River Road in the foreground
View up “Huffers Hill” from the Alpine Visitors Center parking lot
Made it!
View down “Huffers Hill” to the Alpine Visitors Center
Meditator atop Huffers Hill
Portion of the Gore Range, Rocky Mountain Natl. Park

Today I drove Old Fall River Road up to the Alpine Visitors Center in Rocky Mountain National Park. This route was the first road through the park. Today it’s one-way (uphill) and nine miles of it are dirt. Very little of it runs above the tree line, so it affords very different views than you find from Trail Ridge Road.

At the Visitors Center one can climb “Huffers Hill,” which rises a bit over 200 feet in elevation, taking you to 12,005 feet. I didn’t think I could get up there, but with a lot of rests, I did, and a kind young woman offered to take my photo at the elevation sign. Normally I don’t include myself in photographs, but I was happy and proud that I’d made this climb—such a little thing to most people, but a big thing for me—so it seemed okay to make an exception. It was 46 degrees and very windy. Gloves would have been a good idea; also a scarf and a more suitable hat.

On the way up I was passed by a talkative group of Japanese tourists. When I reached the top, they were taking pictures with their phones. I walked on to the sign at the end of the trail. When I turned back, I saw that they had all sat down, some on the ground and some on a rock outcrop—silent, eyes closed. They were meditating. Their silence was of a piece with the silence of the stones. Only the wind could be heard. Theirs seemed the most apropros response to the landscape, and I considered sitting with them, but I was afraid if I sat down I wouldn’t be able to get up again. The coldness of my ears also argued against any possibility of meditating, so I walked back down (much harder on the legs than the walk up, but a nice respite for lungs and heart).