The National Weather Service has this to say about the formation of fog: “Warm air, moist air blows in from the south and if there is snow or cool moisture on the ground it will come in contact with the warm, moist winds. This contact between the air and ground will cause the air blowing in to become cool. Then dew point rises and creates high humidity and forms fog.”
That describes our conditions the last couple of mornings to a T.
It might go without saying that in the high-desert country of Southwest Colorado, we rarely get fog. 🙂
One of the coolest – and picturesque – things about fog is when it’s starting to clear in favor of that strongest of atmospheric conditions (especially in Southwest Colorado): sunshine. 🙂
Above, I happened to catch sight of a few bachelor stallions trotting across the landscape, with a hazy spotlight of sunshine casting light particularly on the rimrocks above Spring Creek canyon. Oh, so very pretty.
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. 🙂
Not only did we get the gift of snow Friday, I saw Hollywood on Saturday. 🙂
He’s thin (much more thin than I’d like to see him at this time of year (or any time of year)), but he seems to be relatively OK. He drank at the edge of a frozen pond, then walked away on a trail to the spot where I found him napping in the (relatively) warm sunlight. He didn’t acknowledge my presence much at all (which was OK as it meant he wasn’t bothered), and I was able to walk around and get a good look at him. I couldn’t tell about his eye (napping, he had both of them mostly closed), but other than being thin, he doesn’t seem to have any particular injuries.
He did pick a very scenic location to stop for a midday nap. 🙂
Bonus: Hollywood’s scenery looking across Spring Creek Basin and Disappointment Valley to Utah’s La Sal Mountains, looking pristine under a cover of fresh snow.
Last week, some folks visited Disappointment Valley from Ohio and Colorado’s Front Range, respectively. It was wonderful to show them the mustangs and a little bit of what I do in this great wide wonderful yonder. For two, it was their first visit. It was the second visit for the third, but because of very damp weather last time, we didn’t have the opportunity to get into Spring Creek Basin to see the mustangs.
Not only did we get in the basin this time, we had a wonderful visit with one of the bands.
As photographers do, we ended up photographing each other with the horses in the background. I will say that he did a much better job of catching me with the horses than I did of catching *him* with the horses (mostly because I was photographing the horses, and only when I swung my lens over did I catch him looking at/photographing me!).
Probably not many readers have any idea who this person is who’s photographing these mustangs and writing the (few) words for this blog, so with gratitude to friend James, here’s me:
The second pic, of course, captures the better subjects. 🙂
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.)
Spring Creek Basin Mustangs 