Bird Song on the San Miguel

By Eliza Dunn

It’s a little bit before 9am. The morning is still cool, and Telluride is just waking up. But the birds have been awake for hours. I’m at the Post Office near Town Park. It’s quiet —there are a couple people out walking their dogs along the River Trail. And if you listen closely, you can already hear some birds.

A small crowd is gathering on the sidewalk. Most people have binoculars hanging around their necks. At the center of it all is Katie Triest, professional bird nerd (according to her business card) and local field guide. “I own my own birding company,” she explains. “It’s called the Birding Company, the Birding Co., and I take people on guided bird trips.”

Triest says her passion for birding began with a clock. “My college roommate took an ornithology class and as a joke, I got her a clock of all the bird calls,” she says. “And the redwing blackbird really stuck out to me, and so I learned the redwing blackbird and it became an eye spy game for me. And so I just literally started becoming obsessed with what’s around me, to identify it.”

Today, Triest is running a trip with the Wilkinson Public Library. It’s a group of about ten or twelve—not ideal for birding, but we squeeze onto the River Trail, careful not to disturb what’s living in the green brush. Triest points out a bird hovering above: “Ooh—so there’s a broad-tailed hummingbird! On that willow. They’re very fast, but they will perch, which is fun, because a lot of the time you don’t see that.”

Triest scans the sky. When she points out a bird, everyone’s binoculars fly up to their eyes. “So that thing you’re hearing is a white crowned sparrow,” she says. “And we’ll see those too. It’s got a really cool white and black cap.”

As we walk, Triest explains what she’s looking—and listening—for: “I’m listening to anything I hear, just bird sounds all around me. And I’m looking for movement. Because that’s how I’ll find something, you know. Like if I’m just staring at a little area, I’m just waiting for a bird to move so I can track it. And once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. That’s all I hear. I’m so distracted in conversations when people try to talk to me, I’m just like oh—oh so there’s some Canada geese…”

Once you know where to look, there are birds everywhere. Standing on the riverbank, some first time birdwatchers list what they’ve seen today. “We saw a yellow warbler,” one woman says, “and a hummingbird.” “A couple of them!” another woman adds. “Yeah, broad-tailed hummingbirds. And then there was something else that she said was nesting…” Her friend jumps back in, “I forgot… That wasn’t a sparrow….” The other woman shakes her head, “No, but we did see a sparrow and we saw a robin.”

There are also American dippers and Brewer’s blackbirds and hummingbirds and song sparrows, all right along the River Trail. Walking a familiar route, like this one, is one of Triest’s favorite parts of birding, because “it gives people the opportunity to learn the birds that they’re going to be walking with day in and day out. It’s a great way to get to know your neighborhood.”

“What I love about birding,” she continues, “is that it’s so good meditatively, because you can’t concentrate on anything else. So, it helps your brain slow down and stop if you’re anxious or worried about something. When you’re concentrating on finding stuff and looking so intently, that all goes away.” 

Focusing on your surroundings, Triest says, brings you right into the present moment along with the geese and the sparrows. It requires patience, and careful attention to the world around you. 

Another birdwatcher on the walk agrees—even in the most familiar places, paying close attention allows you to notice things you’ve never seen before. Pointing out a broad-tailed hummingbird, he says that “it all depends on the angle of the sun to the bird. Because they can look very plain, very plain, and then they can look that gorgeous.” 

Triest’s advice to aspiring birders is simple: “just get out there, get outside. Get a field guide. But really when you’re in the field the best thing you can do is really focus on the subject without trying to find what it is. Write it down. Notice—is there an eye ring, are there wing bars, where is the color on the bird, what kind of sound is it making, what habitat is it in?”

Oh, and Triest’s favorite bird? “My favorite bird is the pigeon,” she admits, “and I’ll get a lot of flack for that.” I ask her why, and she explains, “they’re really incredible parents. They’re resilient, which I love. I love a good resilient bird. They’re adaptable. And I think they look pretty badass, you know? And they’ve got so many color morphs, which is evolutionarily speaking very cool. They’re just rad animals.”

Triest says not to worry—there are no pigeons in Telluride, so she can’t take you on a pigeon-watching trip. But there are warblers and mallards and redwing blackbirds and all kinds of birds sharing our backyard here in the Box Canyon. So next time you step outside, take a look—or just listen.

Celebrating the Class of 2024

By Julia Caulfield

The Class of 2024 (courtesy of Telluride School District)

The Class of 2024 will gather their diplomas on Friday heading off into the next chapter of their lives. Earlier this week, graduating seniors took to Main Street for the annual Graduation Parade. KOTO’s Julia Caulfield was there with a question for those watching the parade: what advice do you wish you got when you graduated from High School?

A Vigil for Palestine

By Julia Caulfield

As dusk falls over Telluride on cool Thursday evening around fifteen members of the community hold a candlelight vigil for Palestine in Elks Park.

“A vigil is an opportunity to come together in a more spiritual way, a more mournful way, to be able to honor and hold sacred space for the events that are taking place right now,” says Lauren Norton one of the organizers of the vigil.

“Candlelight vigils are intentionally peaceful. Candlelight vigils are intentionally an opportunity to grieve our collective humanity and our collective losses. I hope that even though there’s a sign here that says ‘Palestina Libre’, I hope everyone gets the sense that all we want is an end to violence and an end to our dollars being used to fund, in my eyes a genocide, in others eyes a war, in others eyes a conflict. That, for me, has been going on for far too long and caused way too much harm. The opportunity to come together and see people coming together is powerful for Telluride even in these quieter off season moments,” says Norton.

As the group gathers, people share thoughts on why they joined this evening.

“In my eyes, even if this isn’t productive in the sense that we would ideally want it to be, Palestinians also just deserve to be honored and mourned and thought about on a day to day level,” one member says. “I’m doing this for them, even if it has no impact whatsoever. I feel like it’s my responsibility to at least try to have our voices be heard because theirs are not.”

“Anger does have a place and it’s important to feel anger and anger is like a nuclear energy. It can be used destructively, but it can also be used to fuel good. It felt good because I feel anger,” another shares. “Hope is action. When we throw our hands up, there’s nothing we can do, Telluride doesn’t matter. Then we’re not taking action and we’re not engaging in hope at all. As long as we’re doing something, there’s hope to be had for more peace.”

The group takes five minutes of silent reflection as birds whistle springtime songs, cars rumble along.

To close out the silence Norton reads the poem “If I Must Die” by Refaat Alareer.

If I must die, 

you must live 

to tell my story 

to sell my things 

to buy a piece of cloth 

and some strings, 

(make it white with a long tail) 

so that a child, somewhere in Gaza 

while looking heaven in the eye 

awaiting his dad who left in a blaze— 

and bid no one farewell 

not even to his flesh 

not even to himself— 

sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above 

and thinks for a moment an angel is there 

bringing back love 

If I must die 

let it bring hope 

let it be a tale

The group heads down Main Street, in a candlelight march.

Community members plan to hold more events to show support for Palestine throughout the summer, including a “teach in” to help the public learn more about the war in Gaza.

Telluride Art Goes to Washington

By Julia Caulfield

Photo by Julia Caulfield (KOTO)

Take a trip down memory lane. To March 2020.

In a newscast from March 18, 2020, KOTO News reported, “with coronavirus spreading across the world, local health officials have been moving fast to keep residents of San Miguel County safe and healthy. Over the past week there have been declared local disaster emergencies, schools and libraries have closed, food establishments are switching to take out only, or closing all together. Now we’re being told to shelter in place.

In Telluride, one of the first things to go was the Free Box. But where some saw a beloved town staple gone, one person saw an opportunity.

‘My name is Brandon Berkel. I’m a local artist in Telluride, Colorado. When you see something you really like you have to just move fast and take it.’

What Berkel saw was a mural canvas.

Just days after the free box was boarded up, the original plywood was transformed into a community art installation.”

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

Those around in the early days of the pandemic will remember the free box mural. A cowboy with Tom Hanks’ face, covered in a mask, spraying a large green germ. A quote from Toy Story “this town ain’t big enough for the two of us” written at the top.

“Berkel says part of the beauty of the mural is that it won’t be there forever.

‘The mural will be taken down. The Free Box will be open again. The Town will start moving as it always has. It’s still giving little hope that we’re going to make it through this.’” the newscast reported.

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

But that mural was just the beginning. Jump to months later in the pandemic, Berkel, along with fellow local artist Molly Perrault-Daniel created a series of posters, encouraging residents to COVID safely.

“If you remember in 2020, at the very beginning of the pandemic there were some very scary public notice graphics around town ‘stay at home’ ‘where a mask’ they looked very governmental,” says Perrault-Daniel.

She says it was Berkel’s idea to take the energy from the mural, and create posters to soften the blow.

She says the idea was “to replace the scary public announcement posters and have a friendlier approach to these very important messages that need to go out to locals, visitors, to politely ask them to wear a mask, make sure public distancing, all the messages that went out over COVID.”

Perrault-Daniel and Berkel – in collaboration with the Telluride Arts District – created a series of collage posters.

“They’re just funny little animal faces that we slapped on human bodies,” recalls Berkel. “Local animals: elk, beavers, bobcats, fun little western animals. People. Animal people.”

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

For months, the artwork hung as a banner across Main Street, on signs along the Spur, as posters around town.

Jump even more years in the future, to now, and those posters are part of Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History archives. The Smithsonian is collecting art and artifacts to preserve and document moments of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“It was spring of 2021, I got a phone call from Ellen Kramer,” Berkel says, “She bought out our posters at the Transfer Warehouse in 2020. She saw that the Smithsonian was collecting COVID art, so she thought it would be fun to donate it and see if she can get her name in the Smithsonian.”

In a description of the art, the Smithsonian comments on the United States’ long history of using posters (humorous at times) for public service announcements, noting Berkel and Perrault-Daniel’s work does just that. Reflecting “both a humorous approach as well as imagery which specifically reflects the community and history of Telluride.”

The posters aren’t on display anywhere (at least currently) but Berkel and Perrault-Daniel say it’s an honor to have their art recognized.

“My grandmother is so pumped. She’s been telling everyone. My family is very proud,” chuckles Berkel, “I don’t have a college degree, but by having this thing archived it gives the feeling that I did something with my education, which was art growing up. It’s like a certificate that I did something.”

Perrault-Daniel, who also works at the Telluride Historical Museum adds it’s not just about them, but the future, and the past.

“It’s a cool reminder that we’re history in the making,” she says, “We’re making history as we go. These posters that we made less than five years ago are part of our active history and people are going to look back on that. And we contributed to it.”

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

As for what’s next for the artists?

“I’m just going to keep on making collages,” Berkel says “Cutting things up.”

That way they’ll be ready. For the next global pandemic.

Remembering a Telluride Matriarch

By Julia Caulfield

Wendy Brooks was a matriarch of Telluride. She was a world traveler, a lover of all people, fierce, a north star, a doer.

“My mother created everywhere she went,” says Dylan Brooks, one of Wendy’s sons. “My mother was first and foremost an advocate for children and working people who are raising children. To her, all the people of the world were one community and they should all be brought together to make art and to love each other and to do something interesting. Don’t be boring.”

Wendy Brooks passed away on March 26th at her home in Troncones, Mexico surrounded by family. She was 84 years old.

Brooks moved to Telluride in 1976. Leaving her three sons, Demian, Darius, and Dylan with their grandmother in New Jersey.

“My mom set off to look for the next place we were going to live. She drove across much of Colorado and hadn’t found her place and was heading towards New Mexico. She was driving past Placerville and a barefoot kid of ten, hitchhiked, flagged her down and asked if she would take him to town,” Dylan remembers. “She didn’t know what that meant, but thought sure, I’ll give this kid a ride. She drove into Telluride, fell in love with the quirkiness of the town and the beauty of it at once. She sent for the three of us and we moved out at the end of August 1976.”

That fall, Dylan remembers they had nowhere to live so they parked their VW van in the Telluride campground. The boys registered in school with the address “site #7, Telluride campground”.

Brooks had a can do spirit, a hard worker until the end. Salli Russell, a friend of Brooks, remembers the beginning of their friendship.

“Telluride was a very matriarchal society. If you wanted something done it was usually a woman that was going to start making that happen,” Russell says. “I was in awe of Wendy and what she had already accomplished when she moved here with three young boys.”

Brooks helped create Telluride’s Medical Center, the freestyle ski team, the Telluride Science Research Center. But, to many, she was most known for creating the Telluride Academy, starting “basically in her backyard” according to Russell.

“A place for children to play and yet, have some kind of freedom to be who they were, and to empower them to be who they wanted to be and who they could be,” says Russell.

Brooks’ belief in and passion for those children, was endless. Elaine Demas is a friend of Brooks and former director of Telluride Academy. She remembers when she started the role, asking Brooks to help make sure she knew how to do everything right.

“And she did it without hesitation. Right back in there. Every day with me. Helping me navigate hundreds of families,” remembers Demas. “She had a remarkable memory. She had every family and child in her head. Never had to looking anything up. If I had a question she could answer it at the drop of a hat. She was so generous with her time and her knowledge.”

Brooks’ legacy of adventure, gumption and joy is what current Telluride Academy executive director Jason Merritt says he hopes to continue.

“As the current stewards of Telluride Academy, I think it renews and reignites our commitment to doing the very best we can to continue to realize her vision and to do so with total humility and earnestness,” says Merritt.

While Brooks touched the lives of thousands of children, at the center of that world were her grandchildren, including Julian Brooks.

“My grandmother, Wendy Brooks, she wasn’t mine. She was everyone’s grandma,” says Julian Brooks. “The amount of people I knew personally that have reached out, is such a small sliver of the 84 years that she impacted lives. It’s incredible that a woman can do that much. Seeing her now, at rest, at peace, knowing that she left a world that was lucky to have her, it’s a beautiful thing.”

There will be a memorial service for Wendy Brooks in Telluride later this summer.

The Telluride Academy is setting up a scholarship in memory of Brooks to support children in the program.

Anyone can honor and celebrate Brooks everyday by living a life of love, creativity, adventure.

Telluride Celebrates Hockey State Champions

By Julia Caulfield

“We are a ski town with a hockey problem,” proclaims Telluride Mayor Teddy Errico from the steps of the San Miguel County Courthouse.

It’s a classic spring day, with skies moving from bluebird to overcast in the blink of an eye, and the Telluride community showed up to celebrate its two hockey state champions with a parade down Main Street.

Telluride High School Students, who play on the Durango Demons Hockey Team and make up half its players, became 4A State Champions after winning 4-2 over Summit, the Lizard Head U12 PeeWee defeated Vail 4-3 in double overtime.

Telluridians young and old line the streets, cheering, as players parade through town, followed by a bright green Zamboni.

Grayson Fertig, Executive Director and coach of the Lizard Head Hockey program, says he couldn’t be more proud. “This is what a wild success looks like for recreation approach to community hockey,” he says.

Fertig is excited to see hockey become part of Telluride’s culture.

“Hockey’s happening in Telluride because people are figuring out what a fun game it is. You can’t even imagine, high fives all around,” he explains looking around the parade crowd. “These kids thrive when they’re working together and that’s hockey.”

Fertig is joined in that sentiment by Jereb Carter, a proud hockey dad.

“It bonds the community even stronger. It’s all about community strength and I think it’s going to encourage a lot of younger kids to come up in the program. These kids are going to have a lifelong bond out of this,” Carter says. “Even if they don’t play starting tomorrow, from here on out they had this moment. Look at all the younger kids in the parade following around their state champions, they’re all smiling, their parents are smiling. Everyone is happy.”

Following the parade, from the steps of the San Miguel County Courthouse, flanked by the Championship teams, Mayor Errico says it’s a good day for hockey, but a great day for Telluride Hockey.

“For a town of our size to compete with some of the big boys is something we can all be very proud of,” he says.

Hockey coach Jesse DiFiori highlights the win isn’t just felt by the teams themselves, but the community as a whole.

“Today’s victory is not just a win for the team. It’s a win for every single one of us. It symbolizes what we can achieve when we come together, united by a common goal and a shared passion,” DiFiori says from the steps. “It’s a reminder that no dream is too big, and no challenge is unsurmountable when we stand as one.”

With spirits high, Mayor Errico speaks into existence what many on Main Street are feeling.

“What I’d like to see, and what I think everyone here would like to see is, someday soon, Telluride competing under its own flag, under the Telluride High School,” Errico exudes.

The season might be over, but by all accounts it’s just the beginning for Telluride hockey.