Sunday, June 14, 2020
Yesterday, I prepared to drive toward the Cascades with my dogs, and let them explore freely a forested area. Here at home a light rain fell and my cell phone reported rain ongoing throughout the day. While pausing for gasoline, my destination shifted from the mountains to a small BLM on this city’s eastside. Running through much of that BLM is a vigorous irrigation canal, my dogs love the place.
In light rain, the BLM parking area was empty. Immediately, upon starting to follow the dogs along the waterway, I found that frequent rains now have it stunningly lined by healthy and very colorful plants. I’ve walked often there for years, never before seeing as much streaming health and plant varieties. Each of the stream’s sides hosted tall yellow lilies, True forget-me-nots, Queen Anne’s lace, Sulphur flowers, and widespread red clovers.
The dogs in running-heaven plunged into or leaped across the steam, treading on vegetation now strong enough to withstand bruisings. They climbed up and onto the high natural pilings of big rocks and poked their noses into cavities.
On the other side of those big rocks is a desert side, a broad expanse of dry land. I joined the dogs by climbing up and walking along rocky tops, before we descended onto the dry side among desert-sorts of flowering plants. Now, we were among short-stemmed sunflowers, sand lilies, multi-colored asters, and such lesser-recognized opportunists as winterfat, plantain, phacelia, and milk vetch. These plants like those by the water were plentiful and strong.
I kept my camera busy despite the dashing dogs that frequently brushed against my legs. As the rain drizzling slowed we began to wrap up our outing. While heading in the direction of our Jeep an afternoon sun began to shine. Ah, another lovely adventure and this time closer to home.
Dear Friends: A semi-isolation period pushes us toward broader interests. Diana