In honor of those men and women who have died during the long defense of American freedom, take a moment today to remember their sacrifices and those of their families. War profits only the war-mongers, those who would benefit from others’ patriotism and keen defense of America’s values of democracy and equality and humanity. Those who fell must never be thought to have done so in vain but for that higher purpose.
Peace should always be our ultimate goal.
I was surprised and delighted to see four (seriously, just four) scarlet gilia flowering plants the other day in Spring Creek Basin.
The Southwest Colorado Wildflowers website says they’re in the phlox family, interestingly. Our phlox are always THE first things to bloom in the spring in the basin. They are very low-growing and small, and very widespread. They usually have white petals, but they can also be a soft pink or even purplish color. I would say that by sight, anyway, they don’t resemble at all their scarlet gilia … cousins? 🙂
I’ve only ever seen scarlet gilia at higher elevations in the San Juan Mountains, but apparently, they’re quite widespread over a variety of elevations, happily for admirers of these pretty, bright red flowers!
If you’ve ever looked at one of the maps of Spring Creek Basin, you might have noticed the curious words: “Custer Dam.” You might have wondered what the heck that’s about.
If you’ve visited Spring Creek Basin, you might also have noticed the “dugout” at the first (from the southish) intersection at the west end of “the loop road” (which is impassable all the way around because of washouts). You might even have parked and gotten out to inspect it.
The story I was told – and that I repeat for visitors – is that back around the turn of the last century (1910s?), someone (who must have carried the surname Custer, though I doubt he was closely related to he of massacre infamy?) or someones decided that in Spring Creek Basin, where the three major arroyos of Spring Creek Basin converge (as I call them: the north major arroyo, Spring Creek (the central/deepest arroyo) and the south major arroyo) wouldn’t it be a great idea to build a dam across the arroyo just downstream of the convergences, back up and hold water, dig some irrigation ditches and then sell off farm land with water shares? Because (I always say this with a straight face) the land is CLEARLY immensely fertile and flat and easy to farm. … It doesn’t take long before I break into a grin and/or a laugh when people look around, trying to be polite at the fact that the land is neither flat NOR immensely (or even barely) fertile and/or easy to farm.
I mean, what was ol’ Custer thinking?
The above pic with Sancho isn’t a great depiction of the dam, but I was so surprised when I saw him standing on one end that I took a pic before he left (which turned out to be a good idea as he left within seconds of me fumbling with my camera and taking that pic; the rest of the band was in the greasewood below and across Spring Creek, out of sight behind the other side of the dam). And I thought it would be a good excuse to illustrate some of the history of the place.
That IS Spring Creek between the two ends of the old dam, below the convergences of both the north major arroyo and Spring Creek and Spring Creek and the south major arroyo. See the white? That’s not remnant snow; that’s salt. The soil (and thus all the vegetation and ground water) is heavy with alkali, remnant of the vast ocean that once waved over what is now the very dry (and salty) Colorado Plateau.
The “rest of the story” is that after all the time and effort by the man/men (?) to build the dam and the associated irrigation ditch (it runs a very long way west) – and remember, this is WAY out here, even now; did he use oxen? some kind of tractor?? – the first (or maybe it was a couple of storms on) big storm came along, wiped out the dam (the soil is highly erodable), the water having gathered from all of Spring Creek Basin’s little, medium, big and large arroyos rushed through and down Spring Creek and out of the basin … and Mr. Custer went away *disappointed*. (In truth, I can’t even imagine how he must have felt; it had to have been an ENORMOUS amount of work (and money for equipment and such?) and taken an extraordinarily long time.)
There are a number of these dugouts in Disappointment Valley. What history they could tell.
(Where Eagles Winter: History and Legend of the Disappointment Country, by Wilma Crisp Bankston, tells a good bit of that history, though I’m not sure there’s anything in it about Custer Dam.)
All the birds (OK, many) and all the flowers (again, many) and all the mustangs (really) may be my favorites, but when I tell you that collared lizards are my *favorite* lizards, they really are. While I adore horny toads (aka horned lizards), the bright turquoise collareds really are my very favorites of the reptile world (which might not be saying much as I’m really not a reptile kinda gal).
This handsome mister was sunbathing on a very pleasantly warm morning in Disappointment Valley. When I first encountered him, I had only my cell phone, so I returned with the big gun. He was much happier with me at a distance necessary with a long lens. I was happy that it allows me much more precise focusing on his amazing details.
We photographers like the eye-to-eye approach, but I had to rise a little to get that magnificent tail all in view.
After a bit, he thought he’d seek his shelter’s shade (I don’t think he’d been the only occupant; there was quite a lot of room beneath the overhang of his boulder, and I think something else may have done the initial excavation).
And then I appreciated how the shade allowed more details of and around his eye.
What a super handsome little dinosaur! So glad to see this bright fellow – first of the year for me. 🙂
As widespread and gloriously blooming as the claret cup cacti are in Spring Creek Basin right now, you’d be surprised at how hard it is to get any in the same frame with any mustang as they graze peacefully in the open or on the treed slopes.
I liked this pic because it also shows Dundee going after the galleta and grama that’s currently coming up plentiful in the basin. After a rough winter and a sparse spring, it’s really nice to see the grass looking good in most areas.
Across the little valley from Flash and his mares, I found these beautiful little flowers. Actually, the sort of yellow and soft-red/pink bud of another plant caught my eye before I found a few clusters with some rather wind-battered blooms open. There were maybe a dozen plants in one area … and nowhere else.
I’m not entirely sure whether I’ve seen these before; the sight of them rings a dim bell … but I know for sure that if I have seen them before, I never identified them. They have the curiously long name of lavenderleaf sundrops! Length aside, what a pretty name!
I found/identified it first through my Southwest Colorado Wildflowers app, where it calls them the above-referenced lavenderleaf sundrops, then went to the website, where it’s identified as Oenothera lavandulifolia (Sundrops).
As I was walking back down the hill, thinking about the pretty flowers, I thought they looked a bit like evening primrose, which are larger and have white petals and are ubiquitous around the high desert (in probably most western states). I must be gaining *some* kind of plant knowledge, as the site identifies them further as being “Onagraceae (Evening Primrose Family)”. 🙂
I especially liked this reference at the very bottom of the information:
“This is such an attractive plant, whether in isolated clusters or in magnificent displays over broad areas. Even the buds have their own special attractiveness.” I had been thinking *exactly* the same thing when I first saw the pretty yellow-and-red buds!
(Of further interest, Lone Mesa State Park is just “over the hill,” so to speak, between Disappointment Valley and Dolores, and Canyons (many canyons) of the Ancients National Monument covers a good bit of the very farthest deserty western and close-to-southernmost corner of the state of Colorado.
Stallion duties for a young stallion with a recently acquired band of mares who have known each other for a very long time and may or may not be quite yet “OK” with his takeover (however delayed) are exhausting. He kept an eye on another couple of bands in the vicinity (really, he did), but mostly, he took advantage of the break between rain waves to nap with his girls in the relatively warm sunshine.
As Flash greys, he looks ever so much more mature, even though he’s fairly small (relative to some of his mares, and this isn’t a good example, as they were on a hill, and Gaia was above him). But I still remember his super-cute black-and-white baby self. As I myself age, I find truth in the knowledge that our “babies” always will be babies to us. 🙂
Are any kids still in school? Are they out for the summer?
Snow day, anyone? 🙂 (Telluride actually was under a winter weather advisory.)
Yay for the moisture!! These pix were taken Sunday morning (yesterday). SO thankful for the moisture, of any kind, at any level.
After lots of clouds during the day, the sun dropped below the cloud layer, above the horizon, for a just gorgeous display of light. It wasn’t necessarily a fireworks kind of display, but gosh, did it light up a couple of mustang boys right near the road.
Fresh rain = fresh mud = muddy mustang!
Buckeye and his mares took their turns rolling in the nice mud – and after 30 or so minutes of soft, steady rain (and graupel), it WAS nicely muddy! – as the rain was starting to end (you can still see some drips if you zoom in and look closely) and the sunshine was making its reappearance.
Spring Creek Basin Mustangs 