Adrift Amongst the Mountain Wood

Getting the smaller pieces home wasn't going to be a problem, they tucked right into the strap holding my saddle bag just fine. The five foot long one, though... it would make a fine walking stick (even though I don't use walking sticks), or a flag pole... would be another matter. Well, I could at least give it a try.

Water is still flowing in the creek, not as much as last weekend, and even less than two weeks ago, but still enough to split around the island, its rocky banks and sandy fringe now possessed of a fine collection of mountain driftwood washed down canyon, as it tends to do when we get enough rain to mix with the melting snow. That's good because the Great White Rock of the Wash does seem more appropriately named when there is some water nearby (not that a great shark head rising out from the gravel of a dry wash does not also carry some amount of mystique). 

 "Saturday in the park

I think it was the Fourth of July...

Slow motion riders fly the colors of the day

A bronze man still can tell stories his own way

Listen children all is not lost

All is not lost, oh no, no...

Funny days in the park

Every day's the Fourth of July...

If we want it, really want it

Can you dig it? (yes, I can)

And I've been waiting such a long time

For the day."

(Lamm)

pacing at the start

lots o' tumbleweeds

lower San Antonio Canyon

San Antonio Creek flowing down to the dam

driftwood on the island with the Great White Rock of the Wash

creek and peak

creek and peak

collection of random stuff

more mountain driftwood at the dam

Baldy view

can Spring be far away?