You know you're in the Rocky Mountains when you're driving home from work watching some joggers make their way down a path in a park adjacent the road you traverse. You look over toward the back of an orange cab and it comes to a halt in front of you. There's no stop sign. There's no traffic light and you're wondering what's wrong with the guy in the cab. Why did he stop?
Then you see it, a group of Canadian Geese leisurely making their way across the road. You hope the cars coming the other way see these big birds and don't smash them into the pavement. You sit waiting behind the cab knowing that in many other parts of the country there would be a mangled pile of feathers in the middle of the street, but not in the rocky mountains.