It may not look very damp, but it was – after a quarter of an inch of rain that morning! McKenna Peak and Temple Butte were wreathed in clouds (very unusually) until early afternoon, and this doesn’t capture that, but Tenaz is the star of the show anyway. 🙂
That gives us 0.35 inch of rain (Friday afternoon and Tuesday morning), which is more than we’ve gotten in about three months? At least. The ground still is pretty dry under the top layer of dampened soil, but it has to help the vegetation (and the water catchments, too).
There are places where the horses drink where they also can roll and get muddy, but I like to hope that Cassidy Rain’s “adobe coat” (thank you, Sue!) is from anywhere in the whole wide basin that got rain on Friday. The damp ground didn’t last long, but it was a relief, nonetheless.
Earlier, the smoke plume from the Stoner Mesa Fire (now more than 3,500 acres in very rough country), had been rising high into the sky on our southeastern horizon, but by the time I got out to see the ponies, it was settling again for the night. There’s still a haze, but it’s nice to see more of our blue sky again.
Temple looks as beautiful as always, especially with McKenna Peak and Temple (yes, named for her namesake(s)) Butte in the background.
I heard a rumor that some wet weather might be coming into our region toward the end of the week or weekend, but the forecast is either behind the times, or it doesn’t want to give us a (false?) sense of hope. Ha. Any hope is great hope at this point!
Skywalker might be considered Tenaz’s lieutenant, though I don’t think he would mind my translation that it’s not a title he likes or plans to use for long (!). Tenaz has two young mares, and Skywalker does keep Tenaz on his toes. They’re part of a bigger group of horses that’s basically two separate bands – one mostly happy family. 🙂
Above, the mares have gone ahead (to the right), and they’re waiting for their turn at the water cooler … err, pools of water that gather in the creek bed just above/upstream of Spring Creek canyon. A couple of other bands beat them to it, so they were politely waiting their turn.
The arroyo actually comes from beyond/above where Skywalker and Tenaz are standing, passes by us on the left, makes a big curve behind me as I’m facing them, runs a short distance, then makes another big curve to enter the canyon. Another few curves later, it empties below the rimrock cliff band that forms the basin’s western boundary into lower, wide-open Disappointment Valley on its way to join Disappointment Creek (which also is dry but for pockets of water) … and on to the Dolores River.
The mustangs definitely rely on these seeps in Spring Creek and its tributary arroyos as the summer gets drier and drier before the hoped-and-prayed-for monsoon rains. The forecast is showing an uptick of chances next week, and we’re crossing fingers, toes and hooves (!) that some rain actually pans out for us from those chances!
This handsome fellow is not the same handsome fellow from a couple of posts ago. He was near a small water source, and I happened upon him as he was walking away. Above, I *think* his attention was caught by a small band of mustangs away south and lower. He ended up turning all the way around to look at them, then watched them intently for several minutes before returning to his path away to nibble and browse.
A couple of hours later, this. 🙂
Hot, hot, hot. The temp hit 100 degrees in Spring Creek Basin yesterday. It’s not unusual as a summertime temp … but it’s still awfully miserable. There was some relief in the form of sunshine-blocking clouds, but not a drop of moisture did they produce.
By the time the moon rose, it was actually pleasant (if you don’t mention the gnats), and some little bird was singing its little heart out with a full medley of melody. I don’t know what it was, but it was a lovely serenade! 🙂
In the basin the night before last, I realized I might be able to catch the moon rising from the space between McKenna Peak and Temple Butte if I could get myself into the right position in Spring Creek Basin.
I didn’t, but it was still cool (as it always is?!) to watch the almost-full “Buck Moon” rising in the very warm (the mercury hit at least 98F) July sky last night over the basin.
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).
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! 🙂
Spring Creek Basin Mustangs 