It wasn’t in the forecast. Of the previous six days that had rain chances, we got rain only one of those days. The rain yesterday was *wildly* variable, even just over Spring Creek Basin. Some places didn’t anything; some got something.
I waited out the rain before going out to see the ponies. The ground was still damp (it soaked into the parched ground very fast, and the ground was still very dry beneath the very shallow damp earth), and there was a bit of rain in the far reaches to the southeast and back to the west-ish. That’s not Temple Butte beyond Temple in the rain, but it looks similar/familiar in the haze of the rain (which is SOOOOO much better than the haze of dust and smoke!).
Virga and rain (see it at lower center-ish against the far ridge?) from Spring Creek Basin looking west/southwest toward the far southwestern ridge(s) of Disappointment Valley.
Saturday:
It rained. 🙂 ACTUALLY rained. And for at least an hour (in at least some places).
OMG, the relief. … The gratitude.
It started with thunder and lightning, though, so hopefully the nearly immediate rain put out any fire(s) that may have started. …
We interrupt your regularly scheduled mustangs for an important news update:
WE GOT RAIN!!!!!!!
When you don’t get rain for weeks and weeks, even a little rain is newsworthy. When Mother Nature unleashes a direct hit over Spring Creek Basin, well, that’s major news, that is!
This crazy sky (please tell me the name of those clouds if you know? mammatus or something similar? I read an article about them recently, but I can’t remember the name) was AFTER the rain. Upon entering Spring Creek Basin, I had seen some silver slivers in the distance that had me very excited … but first I saw this sky, and then I saw mustangs, so I had to stop (I ran out of time and patience to choose and process any mustang pix, but they’ll be coming; nothing super exciting as they weren’t super cooperative with that sky above them, chasing the rain-fresh grass!).
Then … THIS:
SPRING CREEK!!!!!
Can you tell that straight across (left side of the pic) is the road? At far right is the curve just after the water passes through the old breached dam (I did a post about it a little while ago). The water is flowing from right to left – and it was loud and muddy and glorious. 🙂 You can see how high it was when it first ran; already it was feet lower by the time I got out there.
Many (most? all?) of the rocks in the foreground are from previous floods. That, my friends, is the power of water in the desert.
Then I rolled around back downstream to just upstream of Spring Creek canyon, through which Spring Creek runs on its way out of Spring Creek Basin. All of the basin’s arroyos feed into the big arroyo that is Spring Creek. This is looking eastish toward that iconic horizon. The canyon is right behind me:
The water flows from right to left, around the curve on downstream, through the short stretch of zigzagging canyon and on across Disappointment Valley to join Disappointment Creek, which ALSO was flowing with rainwater (the flow of the creek ended around solstice weekend), and eventually to the Dolores River way out there where the sky is particularly (and still) dark with rain.
Mammatus (also called mamma [1] or mammatocumulus, meaning “mammary cloud”) is a cellular pattern of pouches hanging underneath the base of a cloud.
People also ask
What does it mean when you see mammatus clouds?
AI Overview
Mammatus clouds, with their distinctive pouch-like or udder-like appearance, often signal the presence of severe weather, particularly thunderstorms, though they can also appear after the storm has passed. While they don’t directly cause storms, they are a visual indicator of unstable atmospheric conditions and can be associated with heavy rain, hail, lightning, or even snow in winter.
Here’s a more detailed explanation:
Formation: Mammatus clouds form when sinking air creates pouch-like structures hanging from the base of other clouds, most commonly the anvil of a cumulonimbus cloud (thunderstorm cloud).Â
Significance:
They are often seen before, during, or after a thunderstorm, indicating the turbulent and unstable air within the storm system.
Severity:
While not a direct sign of severe weather, their presence suggests the possibility of other dangerous weather conditions like lightning, hail, or strong winds.
Pilot Caution:
Pilots are often advised to avoid cumulonimbus clouds with mammatus formations due to the potential for turbulence.
Not Always Dangerous:
It’s important to note that mammatus clouds don’t always guarantee severe weather. They can also appear after a storm has weakened or dissipated.
Visual Cue:
Despite their potential association with storms, mammatus clouds are known for their striking appearance and are often photographed by weather enthusiasts and meteorologists. –> including this photographer! 🙂
Think shooting rainbows is all, well, rainbows and unicorns?
Those “unicorns” have minds of their own that don’t often consider “posing” for two-leggeds to be part of any kind of their wild plan whatsoever.
I’m still on the hunt for what I consider a *perfect* (OK, even somewhat close) mustangs-under-the-rainbow shot. 🙂
Tenaz helped a bunch. Thanks, buddy. 🙂
Oh, and although it was NOT raining over Spring Creek Basin whatsoever anywhere (it was either virga or far up-valley beyond the basin’s boundaries) when we had the rainbow (as usual, which, I know, seems odd and unusual, except here (!?!), where it’s completely and totally normal), the rain came with sunset. 😉
Buckeye and his mares took their turns rolling in the nice mud – and after 30 or so minutes of soft, steady rain (and graupel), it WAS nicely muddy! – as the rain was starting to end (you can still see some drips if you zoom in and look closely) and the sunshine was making its reappearance.
A week or so ago, I hiked out to Buckeye’s band under a cloudy sky, only to then spend half an hour or so with my back to a half-alive juniper while it rained. The horses beside and behind me had their butts to the wind as the rain turned to graupel and drips slid off their forelocks and manes and muzzles.
We got a false reprieve of a few minutes before the wind brought another wave of rain, and that’s when I took this pic of Rowan as the band started moving about to graze (they clearly thought it was over, too!). If you zoom in, you can see the diagonal slanting rain drops.
Love her little nibble-lips as she looks back at a couple of band mates.
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. 🙂