Wildlife Overpasses Are Saving Lives

Elk walking across a vegetated wildlife overpass above a busy multi‑lane highway, with cars passing underneath and open plains in the background.

A Slow Start for a Smart Idea

Not so long ago, wildlife bridges were almost unheard of. The first versions started appearing in the 1950s, but here in the U.S., the idea took decades to gain traction. Canada embraced the concept much earlier, and because they’re our closest neighbor, we had a front‑row seat to watch their success.

When Human Impact Forces Action

For years, wildlife advocates pushed for safe passage for migrating animals, while politicians pointed to the cost. And as often happens, nothing really changed until enough people were affected. Once the human impact became impossible to ignore, momentum finally shifted.

Colorado’s Most Dangerous Stretch of Highway

One of the worst areas for wildlife collisions is in Colorado. You might remember when I shared the opening of the I‑25 Greenland Wildlife Bridge — and then the update when the first three elk crossed it shortly after it opened. The latest numbers are jaw‑dropping.

A 91% Drop in Wildlife Collisions

Since the overpass opened, wildlife‑vehicle collisions have dropped 91%. Ninety‑one percent. That’s not just a win — that’s a lifesaver.

Before the bridge was built, this stretch of highway saw up to 25 animal‑vehicle collisions per day during migration season. Think of the ripple effect: fewer injuries, fewer animal deaths, fewer totaled cars and trucks. Imagine a big rig hitting an elk — the damage to the truck, the cargo, the driver, and of course the animal. And that’s just one accident.

Built for Big Game — Used by Everyone

The overpass spans I‑25 near the Greenland exit between Larkspur and Monument. It was designed primarily for pronghorn and elk, but the success has gone far beyond that.

Video feeds show entire elk herds using the bridge. Pronghorn are crossing to the west side of I‑25 for the first time in decades. Bears, deer, coyotes, and other animals have been spotted using it too.

Biologists even created a protected pathway for small mammals by piling wood along the edges so they wouldn’t be picked off by predators while crossing. It’s not just a big‑game solution — it’s a full‑ecosystem fix.

 A herd of elk standing in a grassy field, with a large bull elk in the center and leafless trees in the background.

A Model for the Future of Wildlife Safety

Colorado’s success is more than a local win — it’s a blueprint. When we give wildlife safe passage, we protect animals, drivers, families, and entire ecosystems. The Greenland overpass proves that thoughtful infrastructure can save lives on both sides of the guardrail.

Projects like the Greenland overpass remind us that the West isn’t just a place we admire — it’s a place we share. When we build with wildlife in mind, we’re choosing a future where animals can follow the paths they’ve used for centuries and drivers can travel safely through the landscapes we all love. It’s a simple idea with enormous impact, and Colorado has shown what happens when we finally decide to make room for every creature that calls this region home.

 

Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day

A serene landscape featuring a wooden bridge over a small stream surrounded by green grass and colorful flowers. A bright rainbow arcs across a golden sky with soft clouds, and a butterfly hovers near the center, creating a peaceful, dreamlike scene.

In Memory of Mr. Jazz Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day was created by author Deborah Barnes in honor of her beloved cat, Mr. Jazz, who passed on August 28, 2013. It’s a day to remember the pets who touched our lives and left pawprints on our hearts.

Today we honor the pets who shared our homes, our routines, and our hearts. Pet loss is a grief that cuts deeply. They become family, and when they’re gone, the silence they leave behind is enormous. Many people say they mourned a pet more than a person — and while that can feel uncomfortable to admit, it’s true for many of us. We love them fiercely, and we lose them fiercely. And still, we adopt again. Because love is worth the risk.

My Rainbow Bridge Roll Call

Mittens – My first cat. Black with white paws, and the beginning of it all.

Squinty – A semi‑feral, long‑haired, scruffy stray… but I loved him anyway.

Starsky and Hutch – A matched pair of white cats with black ears and black caps on their heads.

Shadow – A polydactyl adventurer who loved car rides and terrorized every squirrel in the neighborhood.

Pyewacket – The sweetest little black‑and‑white kitty.

Little Joe – A rescued Persian, loyal right to the end.

Smoky – Saved from animal control and a hoarding situation. Declawed, poor thing, but still gentle and sweet.

Buddy – My boomerang cat. I tried to re‑home him three times, but he kept coming back. He wanted to be with me — and he was, until he passed.

Rocky – My first orange cat. A very special boy. We were together almost 20 years, and his passing left a hole in my heart.

Each one gone, each one remembered. All of them loved.

And beyond the cats…

There were dogs who wagged their way into my life, a parakeet who filled quiet mornings with chatter, and even a horse whose steady presence taught me patience and trust. Each one left their own mark, but the cats — oh, the cats — have always been the constant thread through my years.

The Present Moment

Banner and Balboa are here now — six years old already, somehow. Half their lives lived, half still ahead.

A Wish for You

If you’ve recently lost a pet — cat, dog, bird, reptile, or a companion I can’t even imagine — I wish you comfort. I believe they will be waiting for you at the Rainbow Bridge, whole and happy, ready to greet you again someday.

A Tough Morning for Conservation — and One Bright Spot of Hope

 

Crisp autumn morning at Mount Moran in Grand Teton National Park, the snowy peak mirrored perfectly in the calm water below.

Mount Moran reflected in the Snake River.. Grand Teton National Park

This morning I want to take a few minutes to get serious about a subject I truly care about. Not my cats and their furry antics. No joking around today. We’re facing a real shift in environmental conservation, and it’s not a good one for wildlife or the planet. We only have one world, and we need to do everything we can to keep it a safe, stable home to pass on to future generations.

Environmental Protections Under Pressure

Several news outlets reported new efforts to reduce or remove federal protections on land surrounding major national parks, including areas connected to Yellowstone. Conservation groups warn that these buffer zones support wildlife corridors — the pathways animals rely on to migrate, breed, and survive. Without them, the parks turn into isolated pockets instead of functioning ecosystems.

Other reports describe changes to protections for certain marine reserves. These changes open the door to expanded commercial activity in areas originally set aside to safeguard ocean habitats. Marine scientists and environmental organizations say the shift could weaken long‑standing conservation work.

Whether people support or oppose these policy goals, the impact is real. Wildlife, water quality, and future generations all feel the effects. It’s hard not to feel a sense of loss when protections that took decades to build can disappear so quickly.

A Reminder That Conservation Still Works

In the middle of all that discouraging news, something else crossed my feed — and it reminded me why conservation matters.

Just hours after California completed its first wildlife bridge, three deer walked across it. Fifteen hours. That’s all it took for wildlife to recognize and use a safe passage built for them. The moment felt like a small miracle. It showed how quickly nature responds when we choose protection over exploitation.

Wildlife bridges save lives — both animal and human. They reconnect fragmented habitats. They give species a fighting chance. And they prove that when we invest in solutions, we see results.

So yes, today’s headlines were heavy. But that photo of the deer on the new bridge offered a spark of hope. Even in difficult times, progress is still possible — and worth fighting for.

We only get one planet. Let’s do everything we can to protect the wild places that make it extraordinary.


 

Bridge of Flowers Opens for the Season

The Bridge of Flowers in Shelburne, MA is open for the season. This one‑of‑a‑kind flower‑covered trolley bridge is cared for by skilled gardeners and volunteers, making it the perfect spot for a quiet, restorative stop. Enjoy the blooms — and take care of the environment while you’re there.

The Bridge of Flowers announces it's annual spring opening

The Bridge of Flowers began as a simple trolley bridge, reborn as a public garden in 1929.  The Bridge of Flowers Committee lovingly cares for the floral displays  season after season for everyone to enjoy. Open from May to October.

A Connecticut Castle on a Hill


Gillette Castle: A Whimsical Hilltop Hideaway With Paw Prints in the Woodwork

There’s something magical about arriving at Gillette Castle and realizing it’s not just a stone fortress on a hill — it’s a window into the wonderfully eccentric mind of William Gillette, the actor who brought Sherlock Holmes to life. I went in expecting history and architecture. I did not expect to find cat carvings tucked into the woodwork… and only later did I learn that Gillette once lived here with seventeen cats. Suddenly, all those little details I photographed made perfect sense.

Cats of Gillette Castle

As someone who can barely get anything done with two cats “helping,” I can’t imagine managing a castle with seventeen furry supervisors. Banner and Balboa regularly sabotage my productivity — one breaks mice, the other warms his behind on the stovetop grill — so Gillette’s ability to build an entire castle while surrounded by a feline army feels downright heroic.

But that’s the charm of Gillette Castle: it’s grand, yes, but it’s also deeply personal, whimsical, and full of surprises. And once you know the man behind it, every odd detail becomes a clue in the story he left behind.


My First Glimpse: A Castle From the River

Long before I ever set foot inside Gillette Castle, I saw it from the water. I was on a Connecticut River cruise, standing on the deck, when the guide pointed up to a stone silhouette perched high above the trees. From that angle — looking up from the river — the castle feels almost mythical, like something out of a New England folktale. I remember thinking, I need to get up there.

That first glimpse stayed with me. So later, when I finally went searching for a way to reach the castle itself, it felt like following a breadcrumb trail from the river to the hilltop.


The Grounds: Stone Bridges, Quiet Ponds, and Wandering Paths

One of the loveliest surprises about Gillette Castle is that the experience begins before you reach the castle. The grounds are sprawling and peaceful, with winding trails that lead you through the woods and along the hillside. On the way up, there’s a beautiful stone bridge arching over a small pond — the kind of spot that makes you stop, breathe, and take a photo even if you weren’t planning to.

stone bridge over a quiet pond at Gillette Castle State Park in early spring”

The pathways twist and meander, offering little glimpses of the castle through the trees as you climb. It’s the kind of place where you can wander without a plan, discovering quiet corners, scenic overlooks, and bits of Gillette’s personality tucked into the landscape.

By the time you reach the castle itself, you’ve already stepped into his world.


Who Was William Gillette?

Before you can appreciate the castle, you have to appreciate the man — because Gillette Castle isn’t just a home, it’s a personality carved in stone.

William Gillette was a stage actor best known for portraying Sherlock Holmes, and he approached life with the same mix of precision, curiosity, and theatrical flair that made his Holmes famous. He was an inventor, a tinkerer, a showman, and a man who loved comfort just as much as he loved drama. If something could be improved, he improved it. If something could be made whimsical, he made it whimsical. And if something could be designed to amuse his cats… well, he absolutely designed it to amuse his cats.

Gillette didn’t just build a house on a hill. He built a world that reflected exactly who he was — clever, eccentric, playful, and just a little mysterious.


Why It Was Originally Called the Seventh Sister

Before it became “Gillette Castle,” the estate had a quieter, more poetic name: The Seventh Sister. The castle sits on the southernmost hill of a chain known locally as the Seven Sisters, a series of ridges overlooking the Connecticut River. Gillette built his home on the seventh hill — the final “sister” — and named his estate accordingly.

Only later, when the state purchased the property, did the public nickname “Gillette Castle” become official. But the original name still lingers in the landscape, like a whisper from the past.


Inside the Mind of a Whimsical Genius

Once you step inside, you realize quickly that Gillette didn’t build a castle to impress people — he built a castle to amuse himself. Every corner has a surprise, every detail has a story, and every room feels like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Tiffany Lamps Made From Broken Bottles

Gillette loved color and light, but he didn’t want ordinary stained glass. Instead, he commissioned lamps made from broken bottle fragments, arranged like jewels. They glow with a warm, uneven shimmer — imperfect, playful, and completely unique.

A Heated Bed (Yes, Really)

Long before electric blankets were a thing, Gillette engineered a heated bed. Comfort was an art form to him, and he wasn’t shy about innovating.

Secret Doors, Trick Locks, and Mechanical Oddities

Gillette designed all the castle’s locks himself — and they’re famously confusing. Some doors slide. Some pivot. Some open in ways that make you question your spatial awareness. It’s part stagecraft, part engineering, and part mischievous delight.


🐾 The Cats of Gillette Castle

This is where the castle becomes a home — and where my photos suddenly gained meaning.

Seventeen Cats and a Man Who Loved Every One of Them

Gillette adored cats. Not casually — wholeheartedly. At one point, he lived with seventeen of them, each with their own personality and privileges. They roamed the castle freely, supervised guests, and likely contributed to the same kind of “help” Banner and Balboa provide me.

Cat Carvings and Feline Motifs

The carved woodwork I photographed — the scroll work with cats tucked into the details — wasn’t decorative whimsy. It was intentional. Gillette incorporated feline imagery throughout the home as a tribute to the animals he loved.

Custom Cat Toys and Cat‑Friendly Features

Gillette didn’t stop at carvings. He designed custom toys, cozy perches, and playful features for his cats. It’s the kind of devotion that makes you feel instantly connected to him.


Visiting Today

Gillette Castle is one of those places that feels both grand and intimate. The stone exterior looks imposing from a distance, but inside, the home is warm, quirky, and full of personality. The views over the Connecticut River are spectacular, the trails are peaceful, and the house itself is a treasure hunt of oddities.

 

It’s the kind of place where you can spend an hour or an entire afternoon, depending on how much you love details — and I am absolutely a detail person.


A Castle With Heart (and Paw Prints)

Gillette Castle isn’t just a historic site. It’s a portrait of a man who loved creativity, comfort, and cats in equal measure. Once you know his story, every odd feature becomes a clue, every carving becomes a wink, and every room feels like a page from his life.

And honestly?
As someone who writes in the early morning and mid‑afternoon — the only times when my own cats aren’t actively sabotaging my workflow — I might appreciate Gillette more than most. He built a castle around his cats. I’m building a blog around mine. It feels like a very New England kind of kinship.