If you catch glimpses of Fountain Creek while driving, biking or walking along the creek, you know it tends to be relatively inactive. You might notice cloudy water due to suspended sediment, or you might spot new underwater sandbars. Most likely, you won’t see major changes. But guess what? Fountain Creek is always changing.
Every year, Laura Hempel PhD and a team of USGS scientists investigate how our creek is changing. Dr. Hempel is a hydrologist with the U.S. Geological Survey’s Colorado Water Science Center, located in Pueblo. She explains that fluvial geomorphology is the study of how rivers shape the landscape and are shaped by the landscape. This broad definition includes the concepts of hydrology (where the water is, how it gets there, where it’s going) and sedimentation transport. It also encompasses ecology, since vegetation influences how rivers behave.
I had to stop myself from buying pansies this week. I badly want to add some spring color to my fairly brown yard, but I know quite well it’s too early.
I’m an East Coast native, and one thing I learned early in my gardening education is that Mother’s Day is the typical earliest you should plant in the east. It represents a general timeframe of when the last frost will be. Well, here in Colorado that “rule” stretches to Memorial Day. As we saw this week, even after a week of warm and sunny spring weather, a snowstorm is completely in the norm for April.
âYouâre out of the woods, youâre out of the dark, youâre out of the night. Step into the sun, step into the light.â If these lyrics sound familiar, youâre probably 40s or older.
The lyrics have been around since 1939 when âThe Wizard of Ozâ was released. As the song was sung, Dorothy skipped along with her basket while Toto ran next to the Scarecrow, Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion. As they emerged from the forest into a field of flowers, they came upon the yellow brick road and gazed at a castle in the distance. The sky was blue and the sun was out.
“Boom, just fired my parachute and felt the jolt as it opened,” said her message. Her speed was around 950 miles per hour as she slowed down for the landing.
Bob McLeod had a way with words. Because of his lyrics about bug zappers and following your dog around with a doodle scoop, Bob’s songs would often bring laughter wherever