Big muddy grateful

21 10 2024

La Sals beyond Disappointment Valley/Creek cottonwoods.

We had rain in the valley – to the tune of almost 0.80 inch total (way, way more than we got in all of September). To say I’m “grateful” is a vast, vast understatement. 🙂

Now THAT looks like autumn. 🙂

By the time I was out with Mariah and her band on Saturday, the snow was noticeably melting, and clouds were lowering over the peaks. Sunday had more rain and super sogginess, and if I could have seen the mountains for the heavy clouds, I bet they’d have shown pristine white caps again.

Yes, major-super gratitude. 🙂





What means that look?

20 10 2024

What tales could Skywalker tell of his adventures in Spring Creek Basin?

I wish sometimes that we could do a mind-meld – horse to human – and be perfectly understood and understand perfectly. That said, I know I learn the most from them: Live in the moment and *enjoy* every moment.





Two to mosey

19 10 2024

A little grazing, a little late-afternoon rambling by daughter Maia and mama Alegre. I can’t think of a better setting for an evening mosey.

******

In fabulous news, we got a nice little drenching in Disappointment Valley yesterday. I kept thinking I’d head out, but then another wave of sprinkles would come through. So envision it wet and gloomy (is it really gloomy when it’s grey and you need it so, so very much?) while you enjoy pix of dry ground and mustangs. And if I can get out in the mud, you might see some of those pix later.





A beacon of gold

18 10 2024

Autumn-gold-and-tall grasses (galleta, grama, alkali sacaton), long, deep shadows. Must be fall. 🙂

If there’s anything that says fall in the West – that’s NOT glowing aspen – it’s glowing cottonwood trees. We have at least two varieties here in Southwest Colorado (I think – please correct me if I need correcting!): narrowleaf and Fremont. Don’t ask me which is pictured, but here’s what Google’s AI-generated (!) search has to say about the differences between the species:

Here are some ways narrowleaf cottonwood and Fremont cottonwood compare: 

  • Size Fremont cottonwoods can grow to be 70–90 ft tall and have a diameter of 2–3 ft, while narrowleaf cottonwoods can grow to be up to 60 ft tall. 

Leaves

Fremont cottonwood leaves are shiny, triangular to heart-shaped, and light green with white veins. Narrowleaf cottonwood leaves are narrow (3/4–1 1/2 in wide) by 2–6 in long, with a round base and a very pointed tip. 

Fruit

Fremont cottonwood fruit is light brown and egg-shaped, and it bursts into three to four sections to release its seeds. 

Habitat

Fremont cottonwoods grow in wet areas within arid climates, while narrowleaf cottonwoods grow along streambanks in dry mountains, desert shrublands, and prairie grasslands. 

Uses

Fremont cottonwoods are used for streambank protection, wildlife food and shelter, shade for livestock and recreation facilities, ornamental plantings, and windbreaks. 

I don’t know how tall the above-pictured cottonwood is, but it’s tall – especially when you realize it’s rooted in that little arroyo (standing in the bottom, it was easy to climb into and out of, but it was still deeper than I am tall):

There aren’t a lot of cottonwoods in Spring Creek Basin, probably mostly because there aren’t a lot of consistent sources of water. I know of several (well, a few of the several?) that have died in the 17 years I’ve been intimately acquainted with the basin. Drought. 😦

The above pix are from my phone. The below are from my camera:

That pic would be splendidly *perfect* if there were a mustang *right there*! 🙂 One year, I’ll catch them at just the right time and place (and hopefully this wise old tree will continue that long).

Temple Butte through a perfect little window of leaves.

Cottonwoods line the entire length of Disappointment Creek, which runs (clear to its confluence with the Dolores River) with water from February-ish to late July in a good year (into August in a *really* good year, which this was not, water-wise), and which is entirely outside Spring Creek Basin.

Hopefully ALL the trees and shrubs and grasses and ponds and seeps and catchments and horses, pronghorns, elk and deer and other critters throughout our parched region will reap the benefits of the forecast rain … today through Sunday! Fingers and hooves crossed!





Braid of art

17 10 2024

Now *that* double-braided beauty in Alegre’s mane is a work of art, made lovingly by some dedicated faerie weavers!





Making do

16 10 2024

Cassidy Rain is most definitely a mare who doesn’t care to be photographed and seen by legions of devoted fans (what does she know of legions or fans!?). But she’s beautiful, and so I keep trying; very often, that means at least a semi-butt shot!

Hopefully the front end and background provide a winning distraction. 🙂 She’s such a gorgeous girl!





The look of acquiescence

15 10 2024

Chipeta lagged behind the band as they grazed in a direction, and eventually, she was “left behind” a little hump of a hill/ridge. It didn’t take her stallion long to realize she was missing, and he came from the left (my left). She’s giving a bit of a coy look before she turned in that direction (my right) and followed the slope to where it opened up where I was standing. Her wise stallion didn’t follow her but returned to the band, confident that Miss Chipeta had received his message.





Desert dust

14 10 2024

Maia makes her way down a dusty trail to Spring Creek to drink from surprisingly still-trickling rivulets and pools of water in the arroyo. We finally have some rain in the forecast for Friday. We’re crossing all collective fingers, toes and braided manes.





Just a glimpse

13 10 2024

Kestrel, leaving.





Mastering the sun

12 10 2024

Looking at a bachelor intruder; looking back to the safety of his band.