Anatomy of a Composition - Uprooted
The High-Alpine environment is a relentless and beautiful environment. Sitting near Cinnamon Pass in Southern Colorado, with scattered remnants of mining operations, one can see this relentless nature. These mountains continue to grow, though very, very slowly, as a result of the forces of geology that brought the miners here in the first place. The weather worn, dilapidated structures that still dot the landscape speak to that relentlessness, too. The discarded piping used to direct water into the mining operations, though rusted will undoubtedly outlast me. This all was laid in the ground well over 100 years ago, and the thought and care is evident; a small retention pond held onto the water, the lattice of piping directed it in, small decking that guided and supported it all served such an important purpose.
I’m guessing that the labor which endeavored to raise these and dig into the mountainside would occasionally look about in wonder. But when it came to getting the tasks done, the task of digging, raising, sifting and shipping the mountains of rock excavated from deep within the surrounds, their focus was more likely tuned to that very specific task, and to the wonders of their health and wellbeing, audibly discussing the next meal or the last poker game. So the Queen’s Crown, dominating the foreground, was most likely one of the first victims of the miner’s intrusion. This and the bouquets of Wild Iris, as well as the Marsh Marigold, various mosses, Cotton Grass and others were easily uprooted, trodden upon, dredged, cast aside and carried away. Yet they're still here. They’ve returned.
Uprooted doesn’t specifically mean dislocation. This environment may have been uprooted, but it sill knows its roots. The world and even its uses might have evolved, but the flowers and verge returned. They are the balance to this environment, their purpose hasn’t been lost. We may each go through a similar experience, uprooted, either by choice or circumstance, and maybe more than once in our life, yet staying connected to our purpose can offset the dislocation we might otherwise feel.