Less wind, more rain, please

17 07 2023

Oh, lovely Mariah. We could use a lot more rain and a lot less of your namesake wind.





Golden in the light

16 07 2023

Handsome boy Sundance walks down a grade to cross an arroyo in the very last light of day.

I’ll tell you, I was scrambling, trying to force my slow lens to focus in that divine light before it – and he – was gone.

Note the mud up his legs; the nearby (to the location of this image) pond has finally diminished to mud, and at least a couple of bands have made their way to the area near one of the new water catchments. I’ve seen only one band drinking there so far – from a great distance – but hopefully it won’t be long before more mustangs are taking advantage of the cool, clear water.





Shadow swish

15 07 2023

The business of keeping away the flying buggies never ends for Seneca and the other mustangs during these long, hot days of summer. Savvy humans rely on head nets!





Bright-eyed and braided

14 07 2023

Bright-eyed Corazon waits with his family at a little water source. Another pair were waiting just behind them, and when he’d turn to look at them, he’d cast a glance in my direction, the light would fill that off-side eye, and I’d hit the shutter. I also was trying to get those long braids in the composition; any mare or woman would be envious of them!





Gold ‘n serene

13 07 2023

Piedra caught in a moment of observation – of me observing her – between head-down grazing with her band.





Bringin’ the sky-magic

12 07 2023

For the last very long – days and days and days and weeks and days and weeks – we’ve had solid blue skies. Every. Single. Day.

We finally got some clouds. And when Disappointment Valley does clouds, boy, does it do spectacular clouds.

In order of appearance from around 5:30 or close to 6 p.m. to after sunset:

Looking west.

Mustangs grazing and napping under the relief of clouds.

Silver linings.

Do you see the rainbow?

Rain – or at least virga – to the west.

More mustangs. More napping.

When I left the bands pictured above, I thought I might have a chance at any late surprise light with the bands pictured higher above. But they had moved quite a bit, and the clouds were heavy, and sunset was imminent. But as I left Spring Creek Basin, rain was drifting eastish along the southern ridges of Disappointment Valley. Then I dropped below the rimrocks (the basin’s western boundary), and holy rainbow! You’ll have to take my word for it that it was SUPER intense, and the photo above doesn’t do it justice.

By the time I got to the main road, that “surprise” light was glowing, and the rain had moved away from the southern ridges.

Meanwhile, to the west … this!

Bit closer view of the mountains.

Back to the southeastish, rain was actually falling over the southern/southeastern part of Spring Creek Basin.

And THIS happened. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so glad and grateful to have a cell phone that doubles as a very wide-angle camera.

We ended the day with some post-sunset magic.

And 0.01 inch of rain. πŸ™‚ Enough to make part of the road … actually … WET!





All together now

11 07 2023

A couple of bands are fairly close together currently, with a water source acting as the hub. Here, Terra grazes closest to me, while …

… Bia and mama Aiyanna and daddy Buckeye graze not too far away.

The grasses are fabulous, and we need rain to keep them that way. It looks peaceful, eh? It was still 89 degrees at 8:30 p.m. Toasty out there, and dry, dry, dry.





Lines of land

10 07 2023

Spots on the pony. πŸ™‚





Wild graffiti

9 07 2023

Skywalker’s scars look like graffiti on a wall, eh? Translation: A life wildly lived!





Abnormally dry

8 07 2023

Let’s talk about dryness.

I may have mentioned this in previous blog posts, but I record rain and snow (and water-equivalent moisture) amounts on a site called Community Collaborative Rain, Hail & Snow Network every day of every week, month and year. I’ve been doing it for a few (several?) years now. It started with a nudge from the local water commissioner (with the Colorado Division of Water Resources, and I was all over it so I could prove drought relative to something Spring Creek Basin related. That was proved, the outcome was successful, and as life goes on, still I measure rain and snow – and – IMPORTANTLY – the lack thereof.

In recent months, it’s been a bit of a joke that the Denver and Front Range areas (it’s all the same, right?) have been getting so much rain while the weather people say “most of Colorado is getting rain.”

This little tidbit was just in the Denver Post: “It’s rained more in Denver by now than it normally does all year, with more likely. 15.2 inches of rain as of yesterday is already above our annual average of 14.48 inches.” (There’s a paywall, so I won’t link to it, but I got that via emailed headlines.)

Then there was this little number featured yesterday on Out There Colorado: “Colorado free of ‘abnormal dryness’ for first time in 1,452 days.” I’m not sure what torques me more: the fact that Disappointment Valley – heck, all of Southwest Colorado – actually IS part of Colorado, so please recognize us, or the fact that, with 1.67 inches of rain since April (ask me how I know, then see above), IT IS ABNORMALLY DRY IN THIS PART OF COLORADO. Snow on the mountain peaks does not translate to water NOT on the ground, growing plants.

I know “most of Colorado” is Denver/Front Range (according to those who live there), but I’m having a bit of a hard time generating any all-state loyalty when Denver, with its 15 inches of rain for the year, is at the same level of “free of ‘abnormal dryness'” as the powers that be (who, exactly?!) claim that we, over here in this corner of Colorado – yes, still Colorado – happen to be experiencing.

Here’s the link to the U.S. Drought Monitor’s map of all of Colorado (!), showing how wonderfully free of drought – and/or “abnormal dryness” – we all joyfully are.

Nothing is *normal* anymore, but just above an inch and a half of moisture in more than three months ain’t normal, folks. Not even in this corner of Colorado.

Day after day of red-flag warnings and fire-weather warnings ought to prove that, if the lack of rain doesn’t.

We’re beyond ready for monsoons rains … heck, ANY rains. My level of drought worry is pretty normal – it’s a usual state of affairs for this dry corner of Colorado. … Maybe that’s what *they* mean? We’re always dry, so what does it matter that we’re REALLY DRY?!

In good news, the mustangs are doing quite well, even down to one pond of water and scattered seeps in arroyo bottoms, because our excellent BLM folks have had the foresight to scatter water catchments throughout Spring Creek Basin. Humans worry; wild horses don’t.