Omayra Acevedo, Peak to Peak. At the age of 27, I lost the greatest friend I would have ever known. She was the best mother on the planet. She was my mentor, my teacher, my inspiration and the reason for my love of nature. Which is probably why I love living in the Rocky Mountains. Though she had never been here, I feel her everywhere. About a week ago, I saw a black bear at the front door and three days after, I saw a bobcat in the backyard. Besides feeling overwhelmingly excited, my first thought was that I wish she could have shared those moments with me. 

As I sit at the computer typing, I take moments to stare out the window. I hear the first sounds of migrating hummingbirds, I see the trees dancing in the wind, I spot a white-breasted nuthatch helping himself to sunflower seeds, and the smell of Spring fills my home with comfort. Yes, immediately, I think of mom. I sigh and let my heart take over through my fingertips. 

Many times, while hiking, I see wildlife. Every once in a while, I’m lucky enough to see a mom with a baby or two. Sometimes it’s a doe or a cow – either moose or elk. Nonetheless, it’s still pretty amazing to witness the beauty of nature before your very eyes. One of my fondest memories was the first time I saw a momma moose and her calf. They were chewing on the side of an Aspen tree. I was in Rocky Mountain National Park on the Grand Lake side. It was before seven in the morning. I sat there for over an hour observing the calf mimic her mother’s every move.

Another early morning in Rocky Mountain National Park – this time, in the Estes Park side – I saw a doe with two fawns. Attempting not to be spotted, I hid behind a tree and some shrubbery, I caught glimpses of the fawns frolicking. If I didn’t know any better, I would have been convinced that they were laughing and smiling as they played. Perhaps, the laughter came from me. The joy I experience watching nature at its best, will forever live in my heart. Just as my mother always will.

Here’s to the mothers of our wonderful earth – including the human ones of course. For putting up with our mistakes, our different approach when it comes to communication, our accomplishments, our rebellious nature and/or our simple silliness. Cheers to you! I think it’s time for some pizza and beer. Take-out style of course. 

(Originally published in the May 7, 2020, print edition of The Mountain-Ear.)