And then … this

7 08 2025

Note: Images are from Tuesday, Aug. 5. Yes, I’m in Spring Creek Basin for the below (cell-phone) images, and yes, the fire is fairly close as the eagle soars (the next county south, which is Dolores County; the basin is mostly in San Miguel County but does extend south into northern Dolores County). However, the horses are not in danger; there’s actually a lotta country between there and and the basin.

If you’ve visited Spring Creek Basin, you’ll recognize this cattle guard at the intersection of Road 19Q (Disappointment Road) and Road K20E. What you most likely and very fortunately have NOT seen as you head east toward Spring Creek Basin is a giant, nuclear-cloud-looking smoke plume. 😦 That’s the newly started Stoner Mesa Fire. (This is the Durango Herald link; you may hit a paywall, or you may get a free read of three articles (?).)

I won’t lie; I nearly had a heart attack when I saw that plume. Back in 2002, I was working at the aforementioned Durango Herald, and when I drove to work each afternoon (copy editor/page designer shift of 3 p.m. to midnight), the nuclear-plume of smoke from the Missionary Ridge Fire greeted me with heart-stopping awesomeness (and not in a good way) every time I topped Hesperus Hill to descend toward Durango.

This is from the area we call Chrome’s Point in western Spring Creek Basin, looking east-southeast. Yes, those dark-and-white spots at far left, left of the main/original water catchment aprons (looks like a tennis court) and tank are mustangs. Thankfully, they seemed completely and totally oblivious. The air was hot and smoky: Dragon Bravo Fire, Sharp Canyon Fire, Turner Gulch Fire (smoke still visible from it, too), Waters Canyon Fire … and who knows what other fires contributing to our air dis-quality (!?)) – more hazy than seems apparent from these images.

Moonrise over McKenna Peak and Temple Butte from farther north in the basin. Most of the smoke was blocked by the eastern horizon of ridges from this perspective.

Sunset through smoke. Pretty … but it is violently, dangerously dry out there.

This is a hot, bad, dry (and very-bad-dry) summer, folks. Please be mindful of anything that could spark a flame, stay safe, and support your firefighters … local, regional, state and national. And rain dances are *ALWAYS* appreciated. 🙂

(I went with my phone pix for this post, but I may have some from my big camera in coming days. … May …)





An evening of wow

2 05 2025

There are no mustangs in this post (crazy, I know, with a title like that), but mustangs were SEEN.

This, my friends and fans of wild things and wild places, is a burrowing owl. Possibly one of THE – I’m gonna say (type) it – *cutest* birds on the planet. You know how I adore kestrels. … I see them all the time. But burrowing owls?!?!?!?! This might be the third I’ve ever seen in Disappointment Valley.

Huge shout-out to friend Mary, who not only was driving but spotted this marvelous beauty along the road. She casually asked if I’d seen the owl – she thought it was an owl? – and obliged my horizon-gazing self by backing up to where – sure enough – this burrowing owl was standing on a burrow (possibly/likely previously the home of a prairie dog family) right alongside the road. The owl him/herself (?) obliged us by being its beautiful, gorgeous, adorable self so we could take a minute or two’s worth of photos before driving on to not disturb its … burrow guarding? We never saw another bird, and this one seemed pretty comfortable.

Who needs opposable thumbs when one has feet/talons perfectly capable of gripping dinner? (I think this might be a carpenterworm? Though it’s much earlier than I’ve ever seen them. Eat all you want, friend owl!)

Like … WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW! 🙂

And as if that weren’t enough, this was the end-of-day, sunset-lit, alien-mothership/stormcell cloud (one or the other … right?!) visible over upper Disappointment Valley just beyond (?) Spring Creek Basin:

Because … our planet Earth really is that gorgeous. 🙂

Notes: Owl pix taken with a 600mm lens from inside a vehicle. Crazy storm-cloud pic (and yes, the rest of the sky was basically blue and nearly clear) taken with my phone because a long-mustang-owl lens just could not capture the entirety of the above scene. Very last light of day. I sized the image and gave it a touch of sharpening, but otherwise, that is straight out of the camera, err, phone.

It really was a WOW kinda day. 🙂 “*Grateful*” doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about this glorious little part of our great, wide, wild, wonderful world.





12 from 2024

14 02 2025

Better late than never, and when I finally got my act together, I thought Valentine’s Day would be the best day for this rundown.

As usual, these are 12 (and a bonus) images from the last year that came from each month. This year, I think, most of these photos have been on the blog previously. A little reminiscence of the events surrounding each image will follow the photos. Sometimes it’s those emotions and memories that make a particular image special for the photographer, and these are no exception to that. Just being out with the mustangs, in Spring Creek Basin, no matter the weather, is the very best part of what is impossible to share.

Enjoy … and please consider this is my love letter to Spring Creek Basin and its mustangs from 2024. 🙂

January last year was at least somewhat snowy (this year was very much NOT snowy). Skywalker had been a bachelor with a couple of bands until sometime last year, and here he is with some horses from one of those bands. Completing the composition is part of the Spring Creek canyon rimrocks in the near background and Utah’s La Sal Mountains in the far background. (I wish they were that snowy this year.)

This was a magical February visit with Mariah and her band. The low-angle sunshine made each snowflake a visible bit of earthly magic, and when she looked back at somebody – shazam. Magic captured.

Couldn’t pass up this snowy March day in the basin with Temple! Clearly, she had been enjoying the moisture and excuse to roll in the mud. I love the sunshine on her and the falling snow blurring the background.

I had so many opportunities with the mustangs in April, but this image of Hollywood was just *the one*. You all know exactly what I mean. (To update, I haven’t seen him again since the image I posted earlier this winter. It doesn’t mean anything other than I haven’t seen him. …)

When Spring Creek is running with rainwater, that is a time not to miss photographing it because it doesn’t happen often and water doesn’t run in the arroyo bed for very long. When Skywalker moseyed to the edge of the creek in May, just upstream of the canyon, the scene came alive with story: mustang drinking from an ephemeral stream in the desert.

In June, I was lucky to catch Sundance’s band near Odin’s band … and luckier still to see Sundance and Odin having a friendly little chat! Elder stallion and growing young stallion; what a moment. I’d love to know what wisdom Sundance was imparting to young Odin.

Terra’s stallion adores her. And I mean *adores* her. They travel with another band, but Venture has eyes only for Terra. This image is from July, when it’s hot and dry and the horses just like to doze.

Personally, this is one of my favorite images of the year because those are two of my favorite stallions: Storm and Buckeye. With their bands grazing nearby on this warm August evening, the boys greeted each other quietly and respectfully before returning to their mares.

Here’s your Valentine’s Day image, taken last September. 🙂 Buckeye and Rowan, especially, seem to have a special fondness for each other.

After Storm lost his band in October, the mares went through a couple of younger stallions that couldn’t seem to keep them. Flash ended up with Gaia … then also with Mysterium. And finally, as you know now, he gathered all of Storm’s girls (which, I think, probably was due more to them wanting to be together and evading the youngster that had them than to any particular skill Flash had at stealing them!). (I’ve seen Storm just once since he lost the band, way deep in the southeastern part of the basin.)

Last November, we had some great snow, and we were so optimistic for the winter to come! … And that was pretty much it. Here it is February, and we’re desperate for moisture of any kind while we watch the dirt turn to dust, to powder. But in November, Terra was a gorgeous girl in the sunlit snow, and life was good.

We had more lovely light in December – as seen glowing around lovely Winona – but not a heckuva lot of snow.

And as usual, a bonus:

Buckeye’s girls. 🙂 I don’t remember what caused them to run right past me, but I was stoked to capture this image of them nearly in a row, especially just as Bia was leaping a bit of sage or saltbush!

Thanks for following along, happy Valentine’s Day to you and your loved ones, and if we can have a bit of a love(ly) wish … more snow, please! 🙂

*** Update Friday morning: Disappointment Valley is getting RAIN! Not snow, RAIN. In February. In Colorado. Well, you know we’re in desperate need of moisture, so I’ll take it. (But 38F is hard on the wildlife under rain.)





Can’t-be-contained bonus

27 11 2024

When I was a young Coloradan, newly moved to Durango from Texas, my then-co-workers at The Durango Herald can attest to the fact that the first time snow fell that winter, I went a little bonkers with excitement.

Not much has changed, 22-plus years later. 🙂

We had another great (rain to) snowfall overnight, and it was a wonderland of white this morning – and muddymuddymuddy underneath. The snow is nearly all melted – at least down-valley – now, but rather than wait for tomorrow, here’s a peek at the Thanksgiving-Eve bounty in Spring Creek Basin:

Shortly after sunrise, Chrome’s Point, looking south-southeastish. Flat Top and Round Top are at left in the distance, and Filly Peak is at right.

Looking back north-northwestish, the difference in light is dramatic (this was maybe only 10-15 minutes after the first pic?) as the clouds linger at the higher elevations south and east of Spring Creek Basin and have started clearing to the west and north (though the mountains were engulfed in clouds the whole time I was out).

Holy heavenly light. If I’d been able to see that spotlight of light, with my own eyeballs, at the time, I would have brought out the big gun (these are all from my phone – handy little pocket cam that it is). Wow. Knife Edge is ahead to the left; Brumley Point is visible at far right. Temple Butte and McKenna Peak are still completely within the clouds.

Round Top – aka Saucer (as in flying) Hill – with snow still pouring from the moisture-laden clouds to the southern ridges of Disappointment Valley and beyond to the Glade.

I was just below the base of Knife Edge with mustangs when Temple Butte and McKenna Peak were starting to emerge from the still-billowing clouds. Dramatic much?!?

Heading back to my buggy and the road, looking upstream at the Spring Creek arroyo toward its source at McKenna Peak … Temple Butte behind it … submarine ridge to the right … Brumley Point straight ahead (it sits right on the basin’s southeast boundary) … Round Top at far right. Water WAS trickling through the bed of the arroyo in some places (like where I crossed).

From the ridge at the main/original water catchment (oh, how I hope this snow provided lots and lots of water for our catchments!), looking eastish across the basin. I mean … who DOESN’T get giddy at the sight of snow?! 🙂 Knife Edge is the ridge at far left with the top rim just barely free of snow. See the trees at the base of the ridge at almost farthest left? That’s where the ponies are (the ones I visited, anyway).

This one’s a little out of order, but it sums it all up. 🙂 I love mustangs; I love snow; I love Spring Creek Basin and its mustangs in the snow!

That’s our water. Our moisture. Our lifeblood for growing things.

So, so, so, SOOOOO grateful this Thanksgiving Eve. Happy gratitude to all you wonderful readers and your families on this, my very favorite holiday. Hope you all get to spend it with those you love, in places you love. 🙂





Morning delight

16 11 2024

Third rifle season finally is over in Colorado.

I think it’s not an understatement or anthropomorphism to say that I and the animals (of all species) are in a state of relief. Interestingly, I think the hordes were fewer this year, and while I think most were well-behaved (and I met and talked to a few very nice individual hunters – including a very friendly young man from Oregon), there was at least one instance (relayed to me by a hunter who witnessed it from quite a distance and up a ridge away) of shooting from the road (totally illegal), possibly after the 30-minutes-after-sunset rule, onto private property (which may or may not have been properly noted as such on their OnX map apps).

I witnessed at least two hunters leaving their camp well past 30 minutes after sunset to go … somewhere? And when starting to head out of the basin one night after sunset, from deep-east in the basin, was passed by two hunters going even DEEPER into the basin. Flouting the rules?! Draw your own conclusion.

The horses have been nervous to the rifle shots and accompanying echoes, which caused everything from startling in place to taking off running en masse.

Relief? Huge.

There’s still fourth season, which starts Wednesday and runs through Sunday (blessedly short), but we rarely get hunters during that season – and not the camping-here, driving-up-and-down-the-road-from-5:14 a.m.-to-well-after-dark (I lose track) hunters that third season is (in)famous for hosting.

Early Friday morning, I saw subtle color in the scudding clouds in the southeastern sky and decided to see what was happening (let alone keep an eye out for any nefariousness). … That subtle color had faded to grey by the time I got out on the road. … But then … starting with just a couple of bands of flame above the horizon … THE LIGHT EXPLODED.

And behind me to the west:

There was quite a lot of distortion as the moon sank – quite unlike the sharp views when it rises? – but take my word for the marvelousity (kinda like gorgeousity – all phenomenal!).

My big camera and long lens simply can’t take it all in, so I switched to my phone. In the foreground is Disappointment Road heading southeast. Visible in the distance are Temple Butte and Brumley Point.

Presented in the order in which they were taken. I know they all look similar … but the sky went from spectacular to SPECTACULAR, and show me a photographer who can *stop* taking pix of a such a scene (you can’t, and we certainly can’t).

Bear with me (because you know there’s more).

Continuing in order … looking a bit more to the east (left). I laid down in the middle of the road to take this one, something I’d never have done at the height of the hunting season.

Meanwhile, what was happening behind me, where the moon had already set?

More gorgeousity! Looking northwest to Utah’s La Sal Mountains.

Back to the southeast … starting to see a different color hue as the Earth continued its rotation and the sun edged closer to its morning debut.

Clouds and light and land to the southwest, where the moon set before the colors took off (darnit!).

One more of our beloved horizon mountains.

Apologies to sailors for swapping words to the usual rhyme. 🙂 (Not really.) It WAS very windy, which I imagine wouldn’t be so fun if you had to row against it or sail with it propelling you away from your destination. But wow. I hope many, many photography-minded and beauty-loving people stopped what they were doing and admired the sunrise yesterday.





Snow before the *snow*

8 11 2024

This was before the big snow, but the light was so gorgeous, and I managed to not take many pix of the snow while it was snowing (very low/short distance visibility), so visualize that ALL covered in snow (to the tune of 4-plus inches, give or take), and that’s what it looked like (minus the clouds socking in the valley). 🙂

The above pic is from Disappointment Road looking eastish; readers will recognize the Temple Butte promontory and the snow-covered pyramid that is McKenna Peak. The rain-dark mid-ground is Spring Creek Basin.

From much farther up-valley, looking slightly eastish of northish (!), from left to right: Brumley Point, McKenna Peak and Temple Butte across the very southern part of Spring Creek Basin.

And a closer view of Temple Butte and the buttes beyond/eastish of it (those farther promontories aren’t visible from Spring Creek Basin proper, though the near foreground is part of Spring Creek Basin Herd Management Area).

It’s hard to believe because our snow usually melts by at least midday, if not mid-morning, but there’s still snow on the ground today, two days after the snowfall. And of course, muddy, muddy goodness underneath. That mud does make it hard to get around (and all the hunter traffic – already – depresses and demotivates me; third rifle season (aka crazy-town season) starts Saturday), but hopefully I’ll get out and about and get some new pony pix soon. If not with snow, I’ll still have plenty to share from pre-snow days (and will make that clear in the text of each post).





Spooooookeeeeee

31 10 2024

Red sky at night, sailors’ delight.

Red in the morning, sailors take warning.

The following pix are from sunset the night of Oct. 28 (I couldn’t think of anything spookier for today’s post!).

Morning the 29th was grey and dark – and raining from the heavens! – and I was fully delighted by both the light show … and then with all of the RAIN (0.86 inch total)!

Am I right, or am I right?! The above is nearly straight out of my camera – I sized it and applied some sharpening. That’s looking west.

This is the spookiest part of the post (!). Looking east toward/across/beyond Spring Creek Basin. Again, the only thing I did was size it and apply some sharpening.

And a bit closer as the color was absolutely exploding.

The above are from my camera; the below – for wider views – from my phone (again, nothing but sizing and sharpening):

And:

I don’t know about sailors (any folks on actual waves are half a continent away), but *I* was the very best kind of astounded!

And very grateful for the rain overnight and the next morning. 🙂





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!





Magic bow

17 09 2024

From above Disappointment Road looking up-valley – Spring Creek Basin from about mid-ground at left to background. The magic treasure under the rainbow.

We got sprinkles but nothing spectacular in the rain department … unless, of course, you count the rainbow glowing ahead of the rain. 🙂

**** Update: Around 5 a.m., we got a *spectacular* thunder-and-lightning storm that brought the rain in toad-gagging torrents. Every arroyo and creek in the valley is surely rolling and roiling. Catchments hopefully have gotten much-needed infusions by the gallon.

Wowza!!!!





‘I love magic’

26 08 2024

Prepare ye for brilliance.

When I went into the basin Saturday evening, this was the view to the northwest beyond Spring Creek Basin, its namesake canyon and lower Disappointment Valley. You can just see eastern Utah’s northern La Sal Mountains at the right edge of the vast curtain of storm-rain.

This pic, with its sage-covered foreground, semi-jagged horizon and gorgeous-glorious sky with angel rays above an isolated downpour of distant rain, illustrates *The West* to me.

Fast forward a couple of hours, and this was developing above our southeastern horizon: end of Valentine Mesa, Temple Butte, McKenna Peak, the crowns of submarine ridge and Brumley Point over Knife Edge, The Glade in the far distance (hi, Rick!) beyond Round Top and Flat Top.

At the same time as above, this was the view to the west. I thought we were going to get last light through that window to the right of the sun, but the clouds had other ideas.

While my very long lens is perfect for capturing pix of the mustangs, not even my wide-angle lens (if I’d had it along) is wide enough for this amazing view of Storm’s band under the, uh, storm clouds (he WAS born under a storm!).

The light on those clouds – and the very far ridges (bottom center between submarine ridge and Brumley Point) – with that narrow band of dark, dark blue (that’s rain away off yonder) … WOW. And just right of very bottom center is a young wild pony who recently left his family and is usually with a calm elder-ish bachelor but this evening was having fun (between peaceful-grazing energy-restoration periods) creating havoc among a few other widespread bands.

Storm at right heading back to his band after leaving a deposit on a stud pile on the road (where I am … really needing to leave as dark approaches but unwilling to leave the gorgeousity).

Other than sharpening, this pic is exactly as it came out of my phone’s most-excellent camera (how DID we survive without cameras in our phones that we can take to the wildest places on Earth?! I won’t be without my camera-cameras … but I do love my phone’s camera for the wide, wild shots). Nerd info: The other pix also had some shadow-lightening applied (with sharpening) to better see the horses in the foreground, but that’s it. WHO NEEDS AI when you have this kind of light happening right in front of you????

It’s straight-up magic, folks. Ma Nature is kind of a genius. 🙂 All I do is point and click. And share. 🙂

We didn’t get rain out of either of those storms … but we got *divine* and very fabulous rain Sunday morning!

(Thanks to Harry Potter for this post’s title/quote!)