Recap of 2025

31 12 2025

To remember how I did this post last year, I had to go all the way back to Valentine’s Day to find the post recapping the previous year (2024, then) in images. This year (for 2025), I’m happy to announce that for once, though I procrastinated, it wasn’t THAT long, and it was in plenty of time (OK, one day to spare) to make the Dec. 31 deadline.

Deep breath: This was a hard year. Last winter was rough (read: bad dry), which meant the rest of the year was rough (read: really bad horrible awful dry) in terms of drought. Monsoons didn’t hit their stride over Southwest Colorado, so we didn’t get much rain, either. Federal employees were hard hit, too, and one of our young BLM’ers was illegally fired from the new job he loved.

But we also had some good-news happenings: Thankfully, he was reinstated, and we have a strong range team in Ryan, Anton and Laura. We got some new signs installed, including the replacement of the old, sun-bleached, weather-beaten interpretive sign for the new information “kiosk” that greets visitors upon entering Spring Creek Basin. Fertility control (native PZP) continues to be an extraordinary benefit to our herd in terms of management and keeping roundups and removals at bay.

In wider Colorado mustang news, the BLM short-term holding facility at the CaΓ±on City prison complex closed in November, BLM and Colorado Department of Corrections being unable to reach a contract agreement. That’s not-great news in terms of uncertainty for rounded up and removed Colorado mustangs. Where will they go? In semi-balanced decent news (?), all of the Colorado mustangs that were in holding there (about 100 at the time) were adopted or went to private sanctuary or are currently in foster situations for a planned adoption in March (and that all happened despite federal employees, including BLM’ers, being out of work (or working without pay) because of the government shutdown).

What follows is a pic from each month of the past year and a bit of reminiscence of what was happening when I captured the image of a mustang or mustangs. Many of these pix have been featured previously on the blog; some haven’t. If you make it to the end, there’s a bonus pic … one of my favorite of the past year.

This is one of my very most favorite pix of the entire year. I love it so much, it’s the background image on my computer. I’m aware that I likely post a lot of images of Buckeye’s family; you won’t be surprised to know that they’re among my most favorite mustangs. I considered this image as the *bonus* image … but it was one wildly beautiful day of snow (well, I was out with the horses, watching the snow coming for at least two hours before it finally reached us), and it didn’t match the otherwise very dry *year*. … So it gets the January title.

Did I say that I love Buckeye’s family? You can forgive me for singling them out, right? The three mares weren’t born here, but gosh, they are treasures from our sister herd in Sand Wash Basin, and I’m so grateful that we have them. And yes, that was February. Utah’s La Sal Mountains may not have been the *closest* snow, but we sure didn’t have much.

March is still fuzzy-coat weather with signs of approaching spring, especially in the high desert of Southwest Colorado. Fortunately, we had ponds early in the year. They’d all go dry before some rain this past fall put water back in a couple of them, including the one pictured above with Chipeta. This pond is nicely full currently – and has mustangs taking advantage of its water.

April found Sundance not far from the pond pictured above, and he still had his band at that time. Later in the year, he lost them, and he’s been by himself since then. He has wandered a bit, following vegetation and available water. The stately ol’ guy is still around … I see him now and then, napping in the sunshine or grazing on the side of a ridge.

This wasn’t especially the best pic I took in May, but I love both the perspective and the sort of inside joke that Cassidy Rain always likes to be the farthest away from the two-legged. That day was a pretty warm one, and the band was in an area of basin where I rarely find them. It’s not a place with a lot of trees (in fact, there are very few), but they had found a couple, and were comfortable together in the shade near sunset.

My best boy Storm made a brief appearance in the northern part of the basin in June … one of the first times I’d seen him since he’d lost his band the previous autumn. Bittersweet. I haven’t seen him since about July, when he was at a water source with another band as I was trying to shoot the rising moon.

Ah, July, the month the Deer Creek Fire at the base of Utah’s La Sal Mountains sparked. It wasn’t the biggest wildfire of the season, and it wasn’t even the biggest with smoke visible from Spring Creek Basin and Disappointment Valley, but it was uncomfortably close to home. It was a reminder (as if we need any more) that it’s hotter and dryer out there, and we all need to be super aware and careful.

Fortunately, the mustangs live in the moment (while the humans obsess over the wildfire updates), and they still enjoyed peaceful days such as this: Three mares content with their world and each other.

Finally, as summer gave way to fall, Mother Nature cried her best tears and filled some ponds for the mustangs. THAT brought huge relief to us all (if I may speak for my four-legged friends as well as myself). Interestingly, visible at upper left in this image is Benchmark Lookout, a U.S. Forest Service wildfire-watch tower staffed during the critical seasons of the year (which includes September). In this backcountry, we are massively grateful for those who watch for and provide critical information about wildfires, as well as those who work to contain them, allowing them to provide some benefit in some cases while trying to keep property and lives intact.

It might be about now in the list that you’re thinking, “for talking about dry it was, she sure included a lot of pix of ponds.” It’s not because we had so much water; it’s because we’re massively grateful for the water we had.

There’s no water in this image – and it was November, before snow graced the peaks on our northwestern horizon – but the ponies are lined out on their way out to graze after drinking at a little place I call the marsh. This is post-sunset, but wow was it gorgeous under the autumn light. … And it’s not UNgorgeous at blue hour.

You’ve just seen this image of Temple with Temple (yes, the same) Butte and McKenna Peak in the background under a stream of stormy-looking (they didn’t produce a drop over us) clouds. I decided not to choose a pic from the bit of snow we got at the very beginning of December because the above is what we saw the whole rest of the month. The weather has been warm and dry … and that’s awfully nice for getting around and playing outdoors (60s! in Colorado!! in December!!?!) … but if things don’t change in the next few months, I’m going to be singing the same ol’ why-won’t-it-snow song that seems to be stuck on repeat.

And your bonus:

This was an evening in June. Nobody wanted to pose much, and I was going bananas, trying to get somebody – anybody – in front of that background in that subtle, delicious light. Finally, this young stallion obliged. And it seems to sum things up a bit: Hot this year? Yes. Dry? Gosh, yeah. Anxiety-inducing? Pretty much like always … with an extra edge. But! Beautiful, peaceful, a place of escape from the world’s ills (at least the headline type). Kind of a promise that it’s there … out there … and sometimes we don’t have to search all that far for it.

And there you (kinda) have it: 2025 in the rearview. It’s always hard to select just one pic for each month (plus a bonus!), but I hope you enjoyed this little recap.

In best-of-all news, I spent a lot of time (again) with my beloved mustangs in the best place on Earth (in my ever-so-humble opinion). πŸ™‚

And close to that is my gratitude for all of you readers who follow the mustangs and our pictorial journal of peaceful, wild, beautiful life here in Spring Creek Basin. Thank you so much, and I hope you all have a peaceful, wild, beautiful 2026 (with lots more moisture!!!!!!!!!!!!!)!

Be kind to each other! πŸ™‚





Sooooo sleeeeepy

21 12 2025

We don’t have snow. Mud is drying. Temp was at least 61F recently. Wind hails from the warm south. Rain is forecast for Christmas (in Colorado!?!?).

We have water.

Ah, the little (big) important things. πŸ™‚

Happy winter solstice!





Big gulp

30 10 2025

It was really great to see this wonderful old guy.

Sundance lost his band earlier this spring, and he’s been wandering alone since then. He seems to be all right, but he’s thin, and he shows zero interest in being around other horses.

I was really glad to see the pond so full that he could walk in, up to his knees, and just drink and drink and drink. And he did.

I sat on the bank; he didn’t mind me at all. I’m sad to see him in perhaps his twilight year(s), but I was really glad to see my old friend.





The awesomeness of water

25 10 2025

We got more rain Thursday. πŸ™‚

Buckeye and his band knew exactly where to find relatively fresh water trickling down this rock arroyo, where it fills pools and puddles and tinajas along the way. I LOVE seeing the horses find new water. It doesn’t last long, but the fact that it’s there is, really, just cool.

The perspective is weird, but this is looking DOWN the rock arroyo. The bright part is the reflection of clouds in the water of a tinaja in the rock.

This looks like a bigger scene than it actually is. It’s actually only a couple of feet from the little “waterfall” – which is only maybe 6 or 8 inches tall? – to where I’m holding my phone along the little rock wall on the left. Is it cool or what?! (It looked a lot cooler in reality; it loses something in translation to still image.)

This twin-trunk cottonwood is downstream from the rock arroyo. I wonder how far under the soil surface is that bedrock? Not far downstream is another cottonwood, still very green-leaved!

It doesn’t look it, but all that ground is very nicely damp to downright muddy.

Another gorgeous post-rain day in Spring Creek Basin. πŸ™‚





The good running

12 10 2025

At least one part of Disappointment Valley got 1.35 inches of rain over about 16 hours yesterday (it started around dark Friday and ended mid-morning Saturday). Every minor ditch and arroyo to every creek bed (Disappointment, Spring and Dawson creeks) ran with water. … LOTS of water. None had been running previously; all had been dry.

While a lot of water ran off and away, there must have been a fair bit of soaking in; the rain was all fairly light and decidedly steady. The ground and the road into and in Spring Creek Basin are all SOGGY.

Come along on this virtual tour with me – yesterday late afternoon – to see what I saw:

It’s hard to tell either how wide or how deep the water is here in Disappointment Creek several miles up-valley from the turn to Spring Creek Basin off Disappointment Road, but given that it was previously dry, I *hope* you can see that it’s running like a milk-chocolate river. This is looking upstream.

Another view, from several miles downstream of the above image; this is just 50 or 75 yards south of the road to Spring Creek Basin. The creek channel is much narrower here; I hope you can tell how high and wide the water is?

Now we’re looking upstream at Spring Creek water flowing downstream (toward us) from Spring Creek Basin, a few miles east (Temple Butte is visible against the horizon). (I’m still on Disappointment Road, a mile or so north of the above Disappointment Creek pic.)

And, from the other side of the bridge, Spring Creek flowing downstream toward its confluence with Disappointment Creek (marked by the line of barely visible golden cottonwoods in the middle distance).

I know it’s hard to tell width and depth again; the creek arroyo here isn’t terribly deep, but it’s three or four times as wide at this point as in the second pic of Disappointment Creek above. These creeks carried a LOT of water yesterday.

Then I went looking for the condition of the Spring Creek arroyo in Spring Creek Basin (in case this isn’t obvious, Spring Creek and its tributary arroyos drain Spring Creek Basin – when it rains – and the main Spring Creek arroyo carries all that gathered water west across Disappointment Valley to join the also-muddy water of Disappointment Creek, and together, they carry the watershed’s drainage to the Dolores River).

I thought you all might like to see a bit different view of Spring Creek, and I had to walk the last half-mile or so because the road was still too mucky even for my faithful little buggy, so this is just upstream and around the curve from the first crossing, where I usually take pix of rolling Spring Creek after a good rain. If you’ve ever gone into the basin with me, you’ve heard the story about Custer dam (and I even wrote a bit about it earlier this year). This image doesn’t show it well because of the background, but if you look on the left and right sides of the image above the water, you might see that the ground is abnormally straight/flat? Those sides are what remain of Custer dam (marked on maps). The brief story is that around 1900 (?), someone(s) put an enormous amount of work (and likely money) into building a dam to contain water from Spring Creek (the lowest/central arroyo in Spring Creek Basin) and the north and south *major* arroyos that feed into it (and a whole lotta other arroyos feed into all of them). The people also built at least a few miles of irrigation ditch. The story goes that the first major storm after the dam was built burst the dam. As you can (maybe?) see in the pic above, Mother Nature prevailed. (Who could possibly think this country is farmable?!)

Now I’m standing atop the south side of the dam looking downstream and westish. Just around the bend to the right is where the road crosses (when the arroyo is dry). It’s a weird perspective, and though I thought this would be a great perspective, it proved difficult to actually show. The road tops the area at the far (north) end of the dam, which is more to the right than “straight” across, but it’s only … 150 yards away, maybe? Or maybe it’s that from the far side part of the dam.

Now I’m down at the bend that you can see in the above pic, still looking downstream at the road crossing. You see it, right? Where all the rocks are at the left side of the pic. The road crosses the rocks, the arroyo and up the other side to the right.

Sorry, how about now? πŸ™‚ Straight across. This should look familiar. … Well, except for the increase in rocks and the far side, which looks a bit like a wall. …

Looking upstream, there’s the curve where I was standing a couple of pix ago, looking to where I’m now standing.

The water, I should mention, had greatly receded at this point. This is probably some five, six miles (??) upstream from the first Spring Creek pix I showed toward the top of this post. I found evidence that the water reached probably at least another 20 yards up the road where I approached, from, say, the middle of the arroyo. It would have looked most definitely like Spring RIVER at its highest/deepest point. Spring Creek runs ONLY when we have a major rain event. … And when all that water from all that rain is done, so is the “creek.”

I’m gonna need my shovel. Again. πŸ™‚

Are you tired? We’ve been walking around, in the super-mucky mud, in calf-high mud (or muck) boots. And we still have to hoof it back to the buggy. I was whupped.

But you can never, ever, ever beat that view. πŸ™‚ Especially rain-dampened and -darkened. πŸ™‚

I can’t wait to get farther in and take a gander at ponds. SURELY the mustangs have multiple water sources now. What an amazing deluge of rain. Much needed.





A few of my favorite things

1 10 2025

Mustangs, Spring Creek Basin, water and aspen – all in the same view. Many of my favorite things. πŸ™‚





Ducks of a different feather

18 03 2025

This duck is an American wigeon and was with his presumed mate (below) on the same pond where I found the mallards in the previous post. I’m not sure whether they were the third pair I had seen earlier; when I took this pic and that of the female, I was on my way back past the pond after visiting with a band nearby. I didn’t quite realize they were different ducks (not mallards) until I saw the pix on the computer!

This is the female.

They’re both very handsome ducks, aren’t they? πŸ™‚





On the wander for evening water

15 03 2025

The temp dropped with the moisture Thursday night, and the wind didn’t relent, making the ponies’ still-fuzzy coats much appreciated, I’m sure. πŸ™‚ This pond is one of two in the basin that currently have water, thank goodness.





Water visitors

12 03 2025

I keep saying I’m not a bird photographer (I’m really not!), but birds keep finding their way in front of my viewfinder lately. Who am I to NOT try to photograph them?

These four mallard ducks (two drakes, two hens) were with another pair on one of two ponds in Spring Creek Basin that currently have water (which is in itself something special, given our dry conditions). They took off when I approached … and circled … then came back to land.

Super bummed that this shot is out of focus, just as one pair of ducks was landing on the water. But I love the position of their wings, and so I say it’s worth sharing.

This is another pair – landing flaps are down and ready!

Just about to touch down …

And splash landing! I caught the actual contact with the water, but the drake was blocking the hen, so I liked this image better. Watching them drop right over the pond and into the water is a lesson in flight dynamics, I’m sure! Not quite vertical, but it was a much steeper approach than I expected.

They (not necessarily these specific birds) are visitors every year … and every year, it surprises me that they’ve managed to find these spots of open water in the desert. Love having them. πŸ™‚





12 from 2024

14 02 2025

Better late than never, and when I finally got my act together, I thought Valentine’s Day would be the best day for this rundown.

As usual, these are 12 (and a bonus) images from the last year that came from each month. This year, I think, most of these photos have been on the blog previously. A little reminiscence of the events surrounding each image will follow the photos. Sometimes it’s those emotions and memories that make a particular image special for the photographer, and these are no exception to that. Just being out with the mustangs, in Spring Creek Basin, no matter the weather, is the very best part of what is impossible to share.

Enjoy … and please consider this is my love letter to Spring Creek Basin and its mustangs from 2024. πŸ™‚

January last year was at least somewhat snowy (this year was very much NOT snowy). Skywalker had been a bachelor with a couple of bands until sometime last year, and here he is with some horses from one of those bands. Completing the composition is part of the Spring Creek canyon rimrocks in the near background and Utah’s La Sal Mountains in the far background. (I wish they were that snowy this year.)

This was a magical February visit with Mariah and her band. The low-angle sunshine made each snowflake a visible bit of earthly magic, and when she looked back at somebody – shazam. Magic captured.

Couldn’t pass up this snowy March day in the basin with Temple! Clearly, she had been enjoying the moisture and excuse to roll in the mud. I love the sunshine on her and the falling snow blurring the background.

I had so many opportunities with the mustangs in April, but this image of Hollywood was just *the one*. You all know exactly what I mean. (To update, I haven’t seen him again since the image I posted earlier this winter. It doesn’t mean anything other than I haven’t seen him. …)

When Spring Creek is running with rainwater, that is a time not to miss photographing it because it doesn’t happen often and water doesn’t run in the arroyo bed for very long. When Skywalker moseyed to the edge of the creek in May, just upstream of the canyon, the scene came alive with story: mustang drinking from an ephemeral stream in the desert.

In June, I was lucky to catch Sundance’s band near Odin’s band … and luckier still to see Sundance and Odin having a friendly little chat! Elder stallion and growing young stallion; what a moment. I’d love to know what wisdom Sundance was imparting to young Odin.

Terra’s stallion adores her. And I mean *adores* her. They travel with another band, but Venture has eyes only for Terra. This image is from July, when it’s hot and dry and the horses just like to doze.

Personally, this is one of my favorite images of the year because those are two of my favorite stallions: Storm and Buckeye. With their bands grazing nearby on this warm August evening, the boys greeted each other quietly and respectfully before returning to their mares.

Here’s your Valentine’s Day image, taken last September. πŸ™‚ Buckeye and Rowan, especially, seem to have a special fondness for each other.

After Storm lost his band in October, the mares went through a couple of younger stallions that couldn’t seem to keep them. Flash ended up with Gaia … then also with Mysterium. And finally, as you know now, he gathered all of Storm’s girls (which, I think, probably was due more to them wanting to be together and evading the youngster that had them than to any particular skill Flash had at stealing them!). (I’ve seen Storm just once since he lost the band, way deep in the southeastern part of the basin.)

Last November, we had some great snow, and we were so optimistic for the winter to come! … And that was pretty much it. Here it is February, and we’re desperate for moisture of any kind while we watch the dirt turn to dust, to powder. But in November, Terra was a gorgeous girl in the sunlit snow, and life was good.

We had more lovely light in December – as seen glowing around lovely Winona – but not a heckuva lot of snow.

And as usual, a bonus:

Buckeye’s girls. πŸ™‚ I don’t remember what caused them to run right past me, but I was stoked to capture this image of them nearly in a row, especially just as Bia was leaping a bit of sage or saltbush!

Thanks for following along, happy Valentine’s Day to you and your loved ones, and if we can have a bit of a love(ly) wish … more snow, please! πŸ™‚

*** Update Friday morning: Disappointment Valley is getting RAIN! Not snow, RAIN. In February. In Colorado. Well, you know we’re in desperate need of moisture, so I’ll take it. (But 38F is hard on the wildlife under rain.)