After the rain

I waited until Kevin left for work to take the dogs out for their walk.  The sky was overcast and the increased humidity was noticeable.  The dogs didn't care about that.  They were just happy to get their exercise in.

It was 5:50am when I parked the truck and headed east on the dirt road.  The first NFS employee drove in and a USBP employee drove out.  The sky to the south still looked like more rain is coming later.

The smell of charcoal was already less prevalent today.  With enough downpours, the black ash that is coating the ground will wash away, and the standard desert brown will return.  Slowly the herbaceous plants are growing back.  There are plants that grow here that I don't see in the mountains.  I want to learn to identify them all.

I followed the firetruck road for the 2.6 miles.  I walked at a slow pace, as I had no time records to break this morning.  The first thing I noticed as a result of yesterday's rain is the presence of the red velvet mite.  I saw at least five crawling on the ground and some were rather large.  Those mites like to feast on birds, but can also do serious damage to mammals.

It was quiet except for the birds.  Morning doves like to perch on the burned mesquite trees.  Ravens like to hold sentry in taller trees and squawk at intruders.  In my case, the dogs and I were the intruders and the ravens were having nothing of that!  What can the birds do to scare us off, besides fly overhead and shit on us?  The dogs were oblivious.  They were more interested in all the scents on the ground, made stronger by the moisture.  They only want me around so that I can drive them back home where the food is.

I was all alone this morning in this hidden trail.  A USBP helicopter flew nearby but stayed along the foothills, then flew back into town.  We don't see those helicopters fly over like we once did when we moved here in late 2004, when hearing the sound of the rotors was a weekly occurence.  I prefer this more tranquil state, although this area still shows remnants of smugglers: discarded and now rusty or burned tin cans, muddy glass jars are strewn across the area.

This 300 acre parcel of land that burned in late April is slowly regrowing.  While it will take months for the black ash to wash away, I see new plants every time I walk through here (about four times a week).  The dead prickly pear I thought was gone a month ago is now showing healthy new pads.  More wildflowers are now open to be admired.

The diffused light made by the heavy cloud cover gave today's walk a clearer view for photographs, avoiding shadows that would normally be distracting.

I heard birds, I heard distant barking of neighborhood dogs, I heard the traffic on SR92.  And yet there I was, completing my 2.6-mile loop in peace.  I took a lot of photographs and came home to four panting dogs and a shirt full of flying insects: I had mistakenly walked right into a swarm of flying insects as I approached my truck.  Bugs and mites, the bane of the monsoon season, but hell, the forest and wildlife nead this water.