Photographer's Note

Longs Peak in Winter.

This is a view about halfway between my previous posts. The scene is looking up from the Tahosa valley on old highway 7 near Estes Park, Colorado.

The Mountains from left to right:
Mt. Meeker elevation 13,911 feet ... 4240 meters
Longs Peak elevation 14,259 feet - 4345 meters.
Mt. Lady Washington elevation 13,281 feet - 4048 meters.

This area is associated as the home of the naturalist, author, adventurer, photographer, and innkeeper Enos Mills. It is largely due to his efforts that Rocky Mountain National Park was created.

In 1885, at the age of 15, Mills built a small cabin near this sight. Later he operated the Longs Peak Inn a short distance from the cabin. The Inn is now a Salvation Army conference center. Millsí cabin is now a museum.

On the other side of Longs Peak is Millsí namesake in the Park Mills Lake.

I thought I would end this note with a few of my favorite Mills quotes:

"...I wish I could transfer to you the poetry of the pathless woods...Many a strong day I have had with the mists on the mountains...I have lived on Alpine moorlands, with groves and tree-fringed grass-plots, with white cascades, with forests green and grand, in silence and in storm, with winter and with summer, and with the shadows of the pines."
from "Bird Memories of the Rockies"

"It may be, if we quit shooting animals on one side of a Park boundary-line, that in due time we shall become sufficiently civilized to stop killing people on the other side of a national boundary-line."

"No nation has ever fallen through having too many parks.† We may have too many soldiers, too many indoor functions, too many exclusive social sets, but the United States Government, or any other, will never fall for having too many national parks."

"These trees are not to fall.† They are to stand.† In parks, we have provided for trees a refuge with ourselves.† They are to live on, and with them we shall build stately mansions of the soul."
from "Your National Parks"

"Weird and strange are the feelings that flow as the winds sweep and sound through the trees.† The Storm King has a bugle at his lips, and a deep, elemental hymn is sung while the blast surges wild through the pines. Mother Nature is quietly singing, singing soft and low while the breezes pause and play in the pines. From the past one has been ever coming, with the future destined ever to go when, with centuries of worshipful silence, one waits for the winds in the pines.† Ever the good old world grows better both with songs and with silence in the pines."
from "Wild Life on the Rockies"

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Additional Photos by John McLaird (jmcl) Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Star Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 2514 W: 131 N: 4070] (14535)
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