The tragedy unfolding in Boulder and nearby cities reminds us that the scenic foothill canyons were not carved by the beautiful whitewater streams that draw fly fishermen, kayakers, rock climbers and hikers to the Colorado Front Range. Rather, these steep, narrow gorges were incised primarily by glacial meltwater torrents during the Pleistocene and have since been molded by periodic floods, unleashed by intense thunderstorms and deep snow packs. The sheer rock walls, though permanent in appearance, are just the modern borders of these canyons; their predecessors gave way to rock falls and mudslides, the products of freeze-thaw fracturing and torrents of water.
Those who live in Front Range canyons enjoy spectacular scenery and a fascinating diversity of wildlife. However, they, like those humans who live on barrier islands, on lowland floodplains, along fault lines and amidst the stark beauty of volcanic landscapes, accept the risk of "natural disasters" that continue to mold our planet; indeed, the residents of Western canyons also face the possibility of destructive yet vital wildfires. Most will report that the rewards outweigh the risks and some will rebuild once the immediate danger has passed.
Of course, some will see God's hand in the disaster and a few conservative Congressmen will find a way to link Obama's policies to the tragedy. But nature gives us plenty of warning; if we take the time to study her landscapes and her history, we can prepare for the floods, wildfires, hurricanes and earthquakes that produced our chosen habitat and that, sooner or later, will return. Building codes and warning systems may reduce the impact of these natural events but, in the end, nature's power cannot be controlled.
