Even from a distance, it was great to see absolute evidence of horses drinking at the water catchment in wildcat valley. There are a few bands in the area, and there are hoofprints at the trough, but this is only the second time I’ve actually seen horses there. It makes me super happy to know they can drink the cool, fresh water collected from rain and snow.
Dundee, in Buckeye’s band, still in the late light, the same evening as yesterday’s post. She’s still the most watchful of Buckeye’s girls.
Round Top in the background, and Disappointment Valley’s southern ridges in the farther background.
Baby Bia hangs out with daddy Buckeye in the shade of a western hill toward sunset. The temperature relief of shade is intense. Almost immediately, there’s a temperature drop of about 10 degrees – from upper 90s to upper 80s. It’s noticeable … and wonderful.
Hollywood made an appearance the other day, near the bands near the wildcat valley water catchment. It was good to see him … and good to see him there.
His eye doesn’t look any better, but the big hunk out of his hindquarters is healing and closing. He’s still lean, but he’s doing all right.
Hot, hot, hot. Skywalker takes a break from grazing. Not much to do but wait it out.
Buckeye’s and another band graze calmly (he’s just out of the frame to the left) with the rimrocks of Spring Creek canyon seemingly just behind them (they’re not nearly as close as the image implies). Recognizable anywhere.
At least a few bands – a couple more than the last I observed – have found the new (2021) water catchment in wildcat valley in Spring Creek Basin. The cool, clear water in the trough must seem like sweet nectar after the muddy and/or smelly and/or tiny sips of water they’d been getting in various locations previously.
The high temp hit at least 101 degrees recently in Disappointment Valley. It reminds me of the hot days I spent with the BLM guys building this catchment … but even more, I’m so grateful Mike Jensen had the foresight TO build it (and the others). There’s a lot of water in those tanks; we could use an infusion of any amount of rain to keep them filled.
Distinguished Flash, once black and white, is fading to grey and white faster than seems possible.
I don’t like to hurry seasons along, but as it gets even hotter and even more dry in Southwest Colorado (sorry, weather people, but it’s true; we’re way past “just a little dry”), I hope we’re fading through July and ever closer to our summer monsoon season. We never count on it, of course; we got monsoons last year and the year before for the first times in several years, and we were ecstatic. We’ll be ecstatic again – if they come – because we need the rains desperately (as always).
Oh, lovely Mariah. We could use a lot more rain and a lot less of your namesake wind.
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.
