Swan Flat

Today Bree and I took a little drive up Swan Flat Road, in search of a little pond with some salamanders in it. We found it and our amphibian friends, but we didn't stay for long, since the mosquitoes were trying hard to evolve into the collective version of Count Dracula. They were just little pests, but they came in numbers I haven't seen since my last trip to the Uintas (1994?). So, I ran back to the Jeep, and unloaded the Kid Carrier (with Bree still inside her no-see-um netting) into the back then got myself into the relative safety of the cab. Only then did I fully unload her.

We drove a little farther up the road, and I braved one last trip outside the Jeep in order to get this picture of Swan Lake.

Wind Caves

What a great way to start the morning. My mom & sister came by about 6:45, and off we went up the canyon to a short hike called the Wind Cave Trail. I had forgotten just how fun that little hike is. Great scenery, plenty of shade (if you leave early enough), and a superb destination, especially considering how short of a walk it is to get there.

A Jeep Lovin' Beemer

Beemer has been helping me fix up my Jeep, lately. She rides along in her little K.I.D.S. Carrier, while I lean over the hood. She has been up Providence canyon (as far as the rock garden), Left Hand Fork (as far as Grey Cliffs Springs), Green Canyon (to the Mt Elmer trailhead), et cetera. We'll try to extend a few of those boundaries as the snow continues to melt. As you can see, she just devours any Jeep literature she can get her cute little hands on.

Call of the Wild

Back in May for our anniversary, Jan gave the family fishing licenses. We have yet to use them, but I'm getting the bug. This trout was only a few feet away from where Pulcheria and Bree are standing in the picture of them looking at the waterfall. I think its time to break out the rod and tackle and catch some dinner.

The Bubbling Brook and Bree

Here's Pulcheria pointing out the many intricacies of the cascades of the falls. Bree was fascinated by the sounds and constant movement. It was well worth the drive, even considering the road was washed out and we had to drive through the streambed/boulder field to do it. What fun a lifted Jeep with big tires is, eh?

Pretty Picture

We went out for a lovely afternoon drive up the Left Hand Fork of Blacksmith Fork canyon. What a beautiful drive. The recent storms have left big puddles that are a blast to drive through (provided the windshield washers are on already). This is as far as we got today, since the road gets a bit dodgy after the falls. They're called Grey Cliff Springs, and are gorgeous, especially when complimented with Bree and Pulcheria.

Frigidae flores

I can't move on from that storm without my favorite photo. This is my front yard from the view of my irides. They're still alive and kicking. In fact, they seem to be more vibrant than ever, as if to spite our horrid weather. You've gotta love that.

As a side note, do you see how long the grass is? Oh yeah, baby! That's right. Now that's right proper lawn care.

Fightin' Irish

Ah, cultural pride. Yup, we like to get the old cultural heritage started early, thus the Notre Dame hat. It looks better on her than it does on me.

Seventh of June, Anno Domini MMV

Welcome to Cache Valley weather. It's effing June, for Bob's sake! The forest service is never going to open the roads! Alas. Poor Ahenobarbus, I knew him well...

Tenacious Ted

So, I’m driving to a job interview this morning, and to get there I have to drive by first dam, which is, as always, super-populated with copulating waterfowl this time of year. As I make my way round the dam I happen to look in my rearview mirror at precisely the right moment, and I see a flash of black streak from the sky and overwhelm a spot of white. I instantly flip a u-turn and drive back there, where I find a juvenile Bald Eagle clutching a white duck. This is one of those times when I could kick myself for not having a camera with me. I was impressed mostly with the Eagle, whereas Pulcheria (whom I was taking to work) had sympathy mainly for the unfortunate duck. I had no time to go home to grab the camera, so I had to just drive away while others were pulling off the road and getting out of their cars for a closer look.

After my tragically brief interview I went home to grab the camera and make the sojourn back to the hunting grounds where, of course, I could find no trace of the raptor. Not even a feather. I did, however, find the duck. Alive. He’s not exactly thriving, with chunks of feathers torn out and a slight limp, but on the whole he’s surprisingly healthy considering his close encounter with one of North America’s most prestigious avian predators. I called Pulcheria to tell her the good news. “Let’s name him Ted,” she said. Who am I to argue?

Prairie Grass

I've never been terribly fond of mowing the lawn. Sometimes I find it tolerable, but those occasions are certainly in the minority. It probably has something to do with the fact that you can't mow in the rain, when it's nice and cool, but you must mow when the grass is dry, which means heat and dust. As a result of this unfortunate situation, my grass only gets cut three or four times a year. Since I live in Utah, this becomes easier because I don't water it very often, under the thinly veiled excuse of water conservation. It's a good system, and has worked well for me.

Unfortunately, this spring in Utah was particularly wet. Even after the snows ceased, the rain continued to pour down with such frequency that long time locals (I'm including myself in this group since I've spent over 25 years living in Utah) are hard pressed to remember a wetter season. So, my lawn grew and grew, and the verdant grass waxed. It began to look like a prairie in the wind, in fact. About a week before I grudgingly hauled out the antiquated mower and took the first slash at it, the lawn was impressively tall, indeed. This picture doesn't show quite how tall it is, but you get the impression, and a nice shot of Bree.