Greg Hobbs was once again traipsing around Colorado, photographing, educating, and story telling.
Adams State University Hosts Salazar Center Public Water Forum and State Water Officials Association Water Program October 2-3, 2019!
Highway 285 over Kenosha Pass through Poncha Pass into the Valley and Alamosa (passing by the Decker fire in the Sangres).
To each of us
the land, the air, the water,
mountain, canyon, mesa, plain,
lightning bolts, clear days with no rain,
At the source of all thirst,
at the source of all thirst-quenching hope,
at the root and core of time and no-time,
the Great Divide community
Stands astride the backbone of the continent,
gathering, draining, reflecting, sending forth
a flow so powerful it seeps rhythmically
Alive to each of us,
to drink, to swim, to grow corn ears,
to listen to our children float the streams
of their own magnificence,
Out of their seeping dreams,
out of their useful silliness,
out of their source-mouths
high and pure,
The Great Divide,
you and I, all that lives
and floats and flies and passes through
all we know of why.
The mystery of a divide
is this, you can stand on opposites
and not lose your balance.
Draw a straight line from the sky
through the middle of your forehead,
half of you belongs to the other ocean.
Half your mind and half your heart,
you share downstream equally
and never drift apart.
MOTHER OF RIVERS
When I was young the waters sang
of being here before I am,
of falling sweet and soft and slow
to berry bog and high meadow.
And held me in her lap and cooed
the willow roots, the gaining pools,
and called me through bright dappled grass
and called me O, My Shining One;
And shaped a bed to lay me on
and played the flute so high and clear.
And shape the stones to carry me,
when I am young and full of fight
for roaring here and roaring there,
for pouring torrents in the air.
When I am young as mountain snow
in crag and cleft and cracked window;
I call the green-backed cutthroat trout,
I call the nymph and hellgrammite,
I call the hatch to catch a wind,
I call upon the mountain track;
I call the scarlet to the jaw
as morning calls her own hatchlings,
call Yampa, White, the Rio Grande,
San Juan, the Platte, the Arkansas.
(in celebration of Colorado’s instream flow law)