Occupation of Independence

 Here I am again at the edge of a plateau-like mountain , at the end of summer, and at the border between the inland northwest and southwest in northern Utah .  As usual, hunting season is about to begin.  Surprisingly, I rather like hunters as camping neighbors, probably because they don't make gunfire sounds very often and they drive so slow! Still, I try to escape camping neighbors.  Physical obstacles can be used as screening devices, but in this case I almost screened myself out.  Sometimes, it's a game of inches. I had to back out of this mess.  It was pure dumb luck that I made it. Oh sure, there are lots of golden aspen at 8200 feet of altitude at this time of year: But this sort of thing is best left to weekender-leaf-peepers and RV newbies .  My main interest is the last copse , on the left side of the photo: For years I fluttered my eyelashes at this last lonely and forlorn copse of aspen, on the edge of the plateau before it descended s...

The last few years I have watched myself become indifferent to "spectacular" red rock tourist scenery and desert scenery of the type that northern snowbirds coo over.  In contrast I have become intensely appreciative of clouds, rain, soil, grasslands , and trees with leaves.    This is reassuring.  We could think of our ageing-selves as large and old trees, with only a thin layer on the outer diameter made of living cells.  The vast interior is just "dead wood."  But we still have the living cells! All of this is a preamble to today's post.  Driving south and east in Idaho I revisited a favorite canyon -- favorite because it is a Vermont wannabee . People who don't live in the intermountain West probably don't realize how appreciative you can become of real trees, rather than the monotonous bark-and-needle type. Elk season starts in a couple days.  The deer can still afford to be brave: We are on the northern edge of red rock Utah .  A...