An Evanescent Spring
Season of Growth and Change in Rocky Mountain National Park
The human concept of beauty often coincides with evanescence. Like a flower sprouting from the cracks of a rock face, a fleeting moment of silence, or a sudden smile, it is the brief and delicate things in our lives that are the most stunning. In our artificial constructions of stability, it is the impermanence of the natural world that instills in us a sense of wonder.
From within the dirt-smeared interior of a van winding its way up a mountain road, our silent group was on the cusp of change. As heavy eyelids began to stir awake, the white tipped summits of the Rockies materialized along with the realization that our trip was nearly over. We had reached Rocky Mountain National Park, the final field stop of a two month trip that was quickly coming to a close. We had seen an awe inspiring world of deserts, canyons, waterfalls, woods and mountain tops. In comparison, the rolling grass covered Rockies seemed underwhelming. However, it was that relatively flat grassy exterior that made this area significant. It was an alpine tundra.
The tundra is an environment of extremity. With a growing season lasting between six and twelve weeks, plants and animals have little time to prepare for a brutally long winter. In response, plants burst forth to bloom in a frenzied rush and take advantage of the short season. Accompanying this cacophony of color are a variety of seasonal residents including fluttering insects, scampering rodents, powerful elk and a huge influx of tourists. It was within this throng that we attempted to have our lecture. However, the park was simply too crowded and after a brief talk we were forced to descend the mountain, making a abrupt end to our field studies.
Walking down the trail we could see the mess of people and cars contrasted against the background of green mountains. Though the tundra’s flowers were entrancing, the melting icepacks and loud noises of humanity below were reminders of the world we were returning to: one on the brink of a dangerous change of its own and one we would inherit.
As the curtain closed on our adventure, a new one opened up to us as we faced the impermanence of nature, our own lives, and humanities existence as a whole. Sixty days of summer had gone by in what felt like a vacation ending all too quickly. But in that short season, our own experience had come into full bloom. With a new understanding of the world, in all its spontaneity and fluidity, perhaps we have grown to become the change we need.
