ColoradoSeen 2/2012

Colorado Seen 02/2012

URBAN

FOXES

ALSO: WILDFLOWERS n CAMP AMACHE

From the Editor This edition marks ColoradoSeen’s third August issue in this interactive format.

As we enter our third year of publication, we continue to explore ways to make the magazine accessable in more formats and more devices.

As I say in the About section of the website, we are in this for the long haul, so look forward to more informative photo stories in the months ahead.

Put Colorado on your wall

When I saw Sherri Harder’s fox pictures from her back yard, I just had to publish them. See pages 20-33.

Again, one goal of ColoradoSeen is to provide an outlet for visual story-telling — not just my visual storytelling.

In the words of the old TV series Naked City, there are a million stories to be found in Colorado.

We want to tell all of them.

Colorado Seen

An internet image magazine Editor & Publisher Andrew Piper

We welcome comments and letters. Submit them to: coloradoseen@comcast.net To submit work or story ideas for consideration, send an e-mail to: coloradoseen@comcast.net If you would like to advertise in ColoradoSeen, send an e-mail to coloradoseen@comcast.net for information on rates and interactive links.

Copyright © 2012 ColoradoSeen

On the cover: A red fox hunts mice in the woodpile near its den in the suburban Littleton backyard of photographer Sherri Harder.

Prints of pictures appearing in ColoradoSeen are available for purchase. Just click this ad.

FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO THE PRAIRIES, SUMMER IN COLORADO IS THE SEASON FOR

WILDFLOWERS

With the Continental Divide as backdrop, Perky Sue blossoms decorate the edge of Pass Lake at an elevation of 11,600 feet near the summit of Loveland Pass.

A sunflower blooms amid oil wells near the Great Plains town of Dacono.

Colorado’s state flower, the Rocky Mountain Columbine, blooms at 10,000 feet in a mountain meadow below St. Mary’s Glacier.

A stalk of Black-Tip Senecio stands isolated against Grizzly Peak at 11,600 feet on the Continental Divide near Loveland Pass.

PHOTOS by Andy Piper

M

uch of the year, Colorado is either cold, or dry, or both.

But a burst of moisture from the melting of the winter snowpack, and seasonal monsoon rains from the Sea of Cortez, brings a riot of wildflower colors to the state every summer, peaking about the third week in July. Even in this drought year of 2012, with 62 of Colorado’s 64 counties declared drought disaster areas, the flowers have come, if not in their usual profusion. n

Fireweed sets an alpine meadow ablaze with Monet-like swirls of purple and green near St. Mary’s Glacier in the Front Range of the Rockies.

A floral rainbow Flowers found within a few square yards in an alpine meadow cover the whole spectrum.

1. Alpine Avens Acomastylis rossii turbinata 2. Wavyleaf Dandelion Nothocalais cuspidata 3. Scarlet Paintbrush Castilleja miniata 4. Rosy Paintbrush Castilleja rhexifolia 5. Purple Fireweed Epilobium angustifolium 6. Chiming Bells Mertensia ciliata

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Echoing the icy white in the background, a Marsh Marigold blooms at the foot of St. Mary’s Glacier, above, while a riot of color lines a rushing alpine stream in the Indian Peaks Wilderness, opposite.

Indian Peaks Wilderness St. Mary’s Glacier Loveland Pass

Dacono Denver

A stand of Senecio and Scarlet Paintbrush above the tree line screen a rocky ridge near Loveland Pass.

A bumblebee explores Queen’s Crown blossoms at 11,600 feet —just below the summit of Loveland Pass. n

THE

FOXES

IN THE BACK YARD Photos by SHERRI HARDER STORY by SHERRI HARDER & Andy Piper

At right, a family portrait captures ‘Incredible Mrs. Fox’ at the mouth of her den, surrounded by her three kits: female ‘Frieda’ (also pictured below), and males Freddy and Frankie.

W

C O L O R A D O

DENVER Fox den in suburban Littleton

METRO AREA

5 miles

e knew there was a fox that came around during the winter.

We could hear her crying at night and often saw her on the property.

And we knew there was a old den

beside our driveway and woodpile.

But it was still a surprise when a friend called me on June 15 — “Foxes came out of the den this morning!”

That was the first we knew that she was actually using the den.

I set my alarm for 5:30 the next

morning — and he texted me at 4:30: “THEY”RE OUT!” Every morning from then on, for a week and a half, I was out on my deck from around 5 o’clock on, shooting for three hours straight.

I originally thought foxes in the city were a

recent development. But when we moved in a few years ago, the neighbor who lived on the other side of the fence told us this fox hole had been there between 20 and 30 years.

We named the mother ‘Incredible Mrs. Fox’ and

the kits ‘Frankie,’ ‘Freddy’ and ‘Frieda.’

They got to know us, and would let us sit outside and watch them so long as we were quiet and let them be and let them play.

We all began researching foxes: looking them up on the internet and other places.

We were surprised by how much more they resemble cats than dogs — the way their ears turn, the way they pounce and play, their slender legs and narrow pupils.

We also hadn’t realized that for the first eight weeks the mom 23

Boys will be boys, and kits Frankie and Freddy leap, roll, and go teeth-to-teeth at the mouth of their underground home.

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A bemused Frieda looks on as Frank and Freddy wrestle between the den and woodpile, tails flying.

Protecting a snack delivered by momma, kit Frieda carries a dead bird in her mouth as she keeps a watchful eye out for her brothers.

‘Incredible Mrs. Fox’ with one of her kits at the mouth of the den, set off with stones to prevent it encroaching into the photographer’s driveway.

and the babies had stayed in the den, and during that time the father fed them all. The mother didn’t go out to hunt for herself that whole time.

Once the family was out, he still came by with food from time to time.

But he’d never come and play.

T

here’s a picture of Frieda with a bird — her mother brought her that.

She was running away from her brothers because there were always fights over whatever Mom brought home.

Squirrel legs, squirrel tails. Not to mention those rawhide dog toys. One morning there were about ten of those, so some neighbor’s dog lost all of its chew toys.

They’re still in the neighborhood, but within about two weeks they had pretty much moved out of the den. n 31

The proud mother basks in morning sunlight as her kits play in the shade. n

Barbed wire on posts surrounding explanatory signs at today’s Camp Amache recalls the fencing that encircled the camp.

Out of Our Past: August 27, 1942

O

Tom Parker, WRA, 1942

n a hot summer day 70 years ago this month, a train stopped along the railway lines in the southeastern Colorado town of Granada.

The passengers who got off were the first wave of Japanese and Japanese-American citizens being relocated to Colorado from their homes in the Pacific coast states of California, Washington, Oregon and Arizona under Executive Order 9066, as perceived security risks following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

Their final destination was a collection of freshly-built barracks on a windswept prairie hilltop southwest of town — the Granada Relocation Center, later called Camp Amache to avoid confusion with the town itself.

Eventually, over 7,000 internees were housed at Camp Amache, along with just over 100,000 in nine other camps located in California, Arkansas, Arizona, Wyoming, Idaho, and Utah.

TEXT by Andy PipeR Photos by Andy Piper except as noted

Above, a fallen branch and its shadow on a crumbling foundation recall the delicate strokes of Japanese calligraphy.

At left, interned high school student Eddie Kubota drew a map of the camp during his imprisonment, which has been reproduced as a signpost for camp visitors today.

Granada Relocation Center (Camp Amache)

C O L O R A D O

Pueblo

Granada La Junta

The historical photographs of Camp Amache in this article come from the archives of

Where dozens of barracks for Camp Amache internees covered the landscape in 1942, today only the foundations remain.

Tom Parker, WRA, 1942

the War Relocation Authority (WRA), which hired photographers to document its work.

WRA, 1942, Photographer unknown

Camp Amache was a selfsustaining community, with its own store (left), community centers, cemetery, farms and gardens.

One of the few structures remaining above ground is the vault from the main store, below.

Joe McClelland, WRA, 1943

Camp Amache’s Boy Scout troop celebrates Memorial Day, 1943, at right.

Today, the camp’s plazas and buildings are overgrown with sagebrush and cottonwood trees.

Cottonwood trees invade the remains of Camp Amache’s fire station.

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Weeds create an impromptu garden of oriental simplicity as they follow the cracks in a 70-year-old foundation.

Thirty-one volunteers from Camp Amache died defending the United States in World War Two. One hundred and twenty civilians died in the camp itself between 1942 and 1945. Some are still buried in the camp cemetery, their memorials decorated with flags, flowers, origami birds and coins. The U.S. eventually apologized for the internments, but only one U.S. elected official did so during the war itself — Colorado Governor Ralph L. Carr. The gesture cost him re-election. n 48

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