The Wash Between Storms

The thing about the wash, those soils don't hold their water - in a rain it quickly runs along the surface, and just as quickly sinks into the sand and rock and out of sight. Even out there in the open, though, there are those places, low spots with heavier soils, where water collects, where the cold breeze sends chill shivers vibrating across the surface of puddles.

 "In winter fire is beautiful
Beautiful like a song
In winter snow is beautiful
All of the winter long

And you, little son come safely home
Riding the tail of the wind
May you always come this safely home
In winter, fire and snow..."

(Graham and Woods)

The snow on old Baldy was only visible for the first lap of a short ride. After that, those dark clouds weighing down the sky to the east, dropped in to fill the canyon below, a long tail trailing west, covering the sun. Heads kept turning, eyes, wondering how long before the tail would whip around, freeing the sun and releasing some of its warmth. If will counted for anything, we'd surely be looking away by now.

i don't recall ever seeing water being released from there before. nice little waterfall.