Thursday, March 12, 2009

Falling Water

Despite the fact that it is still oppressively cold here, we did have a few warm days recently that caused a bit of a spring thaw. This is extremely exciting for me because first of all I live in a desert. I have no idea how the prairie grasses grow on 10 inches of rain per year. It boggles the mind. And secondly, for a few fleeting moments every spring, there is running water. Not stagnant pools that cattle have churned up and not skeletons of creeks (pronounced "crick" -- a creek is a "crick" if you can jump over it without getting wet -- betcha didn't know that). The water floweth and it maketh me happy. Very happy.
While beautiful, it does present some challenges. My car has been semi-permanently parked in favor of 4 wheel drive, because (and this might challenge your imagination a bit), our road is not paved. That's right. It is gravel and it does get muddy and water does flow forth across it. Here is the glorious unnamed creek (crick) that I must cross in order to arrive at the homestead. I stop in the middle of it every time. Just for fun and because I can. It will be gone in a few short days.
A bit further upstream, the creek (crick) was dammed a very long time ago in the age when people traveled on horseback and lived simple lives and did not owe more on their houses than their houses are worth and did not feel a sense of entitlement to expensive and fashionable things that their checking accounts can not afford. Truly though, to see pictures of the old equipment that the homesteaders had at their disposal and then to see what they accomplished, it is amazing.
The Hanging HX Falls. Once upon a time, Danish Cowboy told a tale of a waterfall that existed on the ranch. I laughed heartily. "We live on the prairie, dear husband, and there is no such thing as a waterfall!" I let him go on about this waterfall and quietly laughed to myself. He had grown up out here and simply had no appreciation for the majestic falls that one would find in the mountains. Poor bugger. And then I heard this roaring sound when I got home the other day. "That's funny. It sounds like falling water." "That's because it is falling water," chuckled one smug Danish Cowboy. I had to investigate. While it is only about two feet tall, and is more of a dam spillway, and is very badly headcutting upstream, and has a great deal of sedimentation happening, the water does in fact FALL from one portion of the creek (crick) to the other. So there you have it folks. My very own waterfall, less than 100 yards from home.

1 comment:

  1. Really? I thought the term "crick" was reserved just for Pennsylvania's finest waterways. You mean to tell me "cricks" are flowing all over this fine country?