From about mid-Spring Creek Basin looking northwest not long before sunset Friday evening. You know, the day we were supposed to get snow.
The passing snow squalls were “this side” (eastish) of Utah’s La Sal Mountains.
Later, very just most immediately before sunset shuttered the light on the rimrocks above Spring Creek canyon, the snow had passed, but the light was still gorgeous.
I was hoping sunset would light up those clouds like it did the previous night, when I was driving and had no camera to hand but my phone.
The cloud/sunset light show never really materialized (some subtle color), but THIS color is always gorgeous and rewarding! (Some snow ON us would have been greatly appreciated.)
Because I’ve referenced it, and because it deserves to be seen, this was the light show Thursday night from U.S. Highway 491 heading north from Cortez, Colorado:
The best camera is the one in your hand. The best light is that in front of you, wherever you are. 🙂
This handsome fellow was spotted a couple of days after the end of fourth rifle season. Some does were nearby. He wasn’t too interested in posing for pix. … I’m just glad he hid himself away the last couple of months.
Today, of all days, give free rein to your gratitude.
We should not forget or ignore or make light of the devastation happening in many parts of the world currently, and in our own parts of the world, we should do all within our power to make things better and brighter for those around us. Hate and ignorance should not rule.
In my quiet, mostly peaceful (hunting seasons from second to fourth (currently) have been not so peaceful …) valley, it’s easy to count my/our blessings every beautiful day – and there are many to count, starting with that very peace.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I hope commercialism is the least of your concerns and the blessings in your lives are the most – and I hope they are many.
I am grateful for my family; their support means everything to me.
I am grateful for friends who are like family.
I am grateful for my mustangs – they fill my heart every single day.
I am grateful for my home and my kitties in this most beautiful of wild places, surrounded by mustangs.
Not least, I am grateful for you readers and lovers of these Spring Creek Basin mustangs. 🙂
A few chilly mornings ago, as I parked at the old Perkins corrals, I noticed the slightly-past-full moon setting toward the western morning horizon. Before I headed up the hill to turn off one of our water catchments for the winter, I took advantage of the old wooden rails and ramp/chute to take some pix.
A moon-photography lesson that probably many know (but because I mostly shoot moonrise, I haven’t particularly thought about): When the moon rises and is just above the horizon is the best time to photograph it for the details in the surface that aren’t overwhelmed by the moon’s brightness as it rises higher. When the moon SETS and is just above the horizon is not particularly the best time to photograph it because it’s sinking into the Earth’s haze, and those details are obscured.
That said, I do love our lovely celestial neighbor, any time of day or night – or any distance above the horizon.
(The old Perkins corrals are so named for one of the former permittees (there were two then) who ran cattle in Spring Creek Basin back in the not-too-long-ago days. Now, of course, Spring Creek Basin is closed to livestock grazing, but the corrals – on the southwestish edge of the basin – are still used by the permittee who has the allotment south of Spring Creek Basin on BLM land.)
From Spring Creek Basin’s “north hills,” the views are tremendous:
Do you see the mustangs? Admittedly, they’re a long way away. 🙂 (Look between the tallest fingers of the dead tree in the foreground.)
I. LOVE. THAT. VIEW!
And in the right light, it’s more painting than reality … except that the very best thing is that it IS reality! I realize that the above three pix are very similar; I couldn’t decide among them to pick just one. 🙂
From nearly the same vantage point, looking in the other direction, off the top:
Wild country. Available to the mustangs, but I’ve never seen any down/back there … of course, it would be a lucky combination to be in the right place at the right time (both/all of us!).
Readers may have noticed that there were two blog posts yesterday. That was a bit of a goof on my part; instead of scheduling “A hole in the clouds” for today, as I meant to do, it published immediately – literally.
But I think it worked out in a typically atypical way. For today’s post, a look at Disappointment Valley from the top down. Not all of it, of course; most of the valley is around the bend. 🙂
In the foreground, Gambel oak, turning gorgeous shades of red and orange. We don’t have it down-valley or in Spring Creek Basin where the elevation is lower, so it’s nice to see the touch of color at the upper end. Pretty soon, the cottonwoods all along Disappointment Creek will be turning gold. Though the creek doesn’t run through Spring Creek Basin, we have a handful of cottonwoods in the basin. Maybe I’ll get lucky and see some ponies near some cottonwoods this fall.
A little Spring Creek Basin potpourri for today’s post. The inspiration was this little guy/gal:
S/he was little bitty, and my first thought was the usual “chipmunk,” maybe “ground squirrel.” There were a couple of little holes, the nearest right behind the critter. While researching just what s/he IS for this blog post, I realized that I don’t give these ubiquitous little busybodies much thought, though I see them all the time. I looked up the above terms and compared those pix with my pix … nope, definitely not either. Then I spotted a pic of an “antelope squirrel,” which fit the bill. Who knew?! There are several regional kinds, and I don’t know which particular species this little one is, but s/he was awfully adorable and fairly curious about the giant (how must we seem to such tiny creatures?) with the clicking box.
From the very top of the western boundary of Spring Creek Basin – the rimrocks you see as you approach the basin’s western boundary *from* the west – this is a view looking to the northwest out over Disappointment Valley:
Utah’s La Sal Mountains are those peaks on the horizon. This was taken right from the fence line at a little saddle. In most places, the sheer cliffs of the band of rimrocks form a natural boundary for the basin. In other places, where the horses could wander right on over, there’s fencing to keep them home and safe. In the very foreground, you can see some old wire from a previous fence; I’m standing right at the current fence (not seen). Between Spring Creek canyon (down to my left) – which is the drainage outflow of Spring Creek Basin – and what I call the northwest valley (simply the farthest little “valley” in the northwestern part of the basin, where our newest water catchment is located; up to my right), there are a series of what I call “bowls” – little “micro-valleys” between hills/ridges, for lack of a better term. The above pic was taken from the top of one of those bowls.
Now facing the exact opposite direction, looking back into Spring Creek Basin, a little lower, near where I made my little friend:
This wonderful sculpture of an old juniper just begged to be used as a frame for this view of the basin, looking southeast. Note the grey mustang at lower right; she was grazing with her band and two others just below the height of the bowl. Visible across the background are landmarks often to irregularly featured in other images posted on the blog: Temple Butte above McKenna Peak (framed right through the upper part of the old tree), submarine ridge, Brumley Point (just right of the farthest top-right branch), Round Top and Flat Top. The snaking shadow-line at mid-right, above the mustang, is a low ridge along the south bank of Spring Creek. The canyon is downstream, farther right and out of this frame.
Would you like to see a bit closer look?
Of course! A marvelous view and a marvelous old grandfather (mother?) tree – what a view it has (imagine!!)!
Have I mentioned lately the fantabulous grass in the basin? Those ponies are eating like bears in hyperphagia (I’m only partially kidding). It’s pretty glorious – and incredibly satisfying to just hang out listening to the horses snip and crop and chew.
I’d been delighted by the ponies, charmed by the antelope squirrel, filled with gratitude by the bounty of grass (native grama, galleta, sand dropseed and alkali sacaton, if you want to know specifics (links may or may not be to the *specific* types that we have)), but the evening had more thrills in store. I’d noticed that the attention of a couple of horses was caught by something I couldn’t see, but as that happens quite a lot, and I was *focused* on framing the basin in the arms (branches) of the ancient juniper, it was a moment or three before another captivating face caught my eye:
One face but two somethings!
Now here’s a thing: Antelope squirrels may be called antelope squirrels (one wonders why?), but pronghorns are not actually antelope, despite the fact that they’re called antelope by most people. Kinda like the buffalo/bison thing. In any case, I didn’t know at the time about “antelope squirrels,” but I was thrilled to see these pronghorn buddies. I think they’re both young bucks, but females also have horns, which are smaller than the males’, and these weren’t super big. (I have seen females recently, with fawns.) Another interesting tidbit: Pronghorns aren’t hunted in most of Colorado. Despite being just about everywhere in states such as Wyoming (nickname: speed goats, which always tickles me), they’re not common in Colorado, especially this area of Colorado. We do have a fairly stable – and fairly small, 25-30ish animals? purely local observation – population in Disappointment Valley/Spring Creek Basin.
One …
… the other.
Thank goodness for long lenses and the quiet of inattention!
The curious stares lasted a few moments, then with a burst of speed too fast for this human to follow (with a camera …!), the boys put on a burst of their famous speed up the hill past a couple of unbothered mustangs (!).
Pronghorns could give humans lessons in sprints and interval training. As fast as they can hustle, they come to a walk or even stop just as quickly. All the better to check you out again, my dears. … Note the four o’clock blooming in the sunlight in the background. Most of the four o’clock plants/flowers are not currently blooming.
And they usually just as quickly lose interest in such slowsters as humans and mustangs. (Note the wonderfully healthy juniper trees branching over the buck and in the background. We’re losing a lot of trees to drought and teeny beetle-bugs.)
No trek above Spring Creek and the canyon would be complete without taking note of Spring Creek itself, which is trickling in places …
… and not a glimpse of water immediately downstream of the above pic. The creek makes a sharp bend to the left there and enters the canyon, just out of frame to the left.
We have an interesting phenomenon (is it a phenomenon when/where it’s normal?) here where water will run above ground (in the creek/arroyo bed), then disappear underground, then reappear (sometimes, in some places) above ground, in the creek/arroyo bed, downstream. With the geology and stone stratigraphy of Spring Creek canyon, there almost always are some little pools of water between the walls of the canyon itself. (A reminder: Spring Creek and its tributary arroyos drain Spring Creek Basin. That water then flows out of the basin, across part of lower Disappointment Valley and joins Disappointment Creek, which eventually empties into the spectacular Dolores River. Spring Creek is ephemeral; it runs only when we get a big (or sometimes not-even-so-big) rain event. This water is from the big rain(s) we got about a week ago, making its way downstream.)
And I’ll leave you all with the glorious panorama that is Spring Creek Basin, from the northwest looking east/southeast/south:
Spring Creek Basin from high atop the northwestern hills/western boundary/rimrocks of Spring Creek Basin Herd Management Area. Visible: Valentine Mesa, Temple Butte, McKenna Peak, submarine ridge, Brumley Point, Round Top, Flat Top, Filly Peak and, in the center, Spring Creek. (Click on the pic to bring it up in a separate window and enjoy it the better.)
Enough rain to change the contours of the arroyos and drainages and, in some cases, the roads.
How much rain? In at least one place, a bit more than 2 inches, which fell in roughly seven hours.
To give that some context, we got 2 inches of rain between April and late July (!).
This apparently came from Tropical Storm/Depression Harold, which missed my folks in Central Texas and swooped north to the Four Corners area. Harold, we thank ye!
I think it’s also greening up again. Already. 🙂 Wow. We love rain!
Spring Creek Basin Mustangs 