Big storm moving in; deer are coming in to town for food and shelter.
The “Foxtail Blizzard” only occurs if the timing is right; very high flood waters take so long to dry out that the wild grass has limited area to grow. If the flood subsides, but the ground retains moisture, the area becomes a field of Foxtail barley. It ripens fast and the Wyoming wind gathers the millions of dry seeds into low spots, up arroyos, and piles it up along road banks and other obstructions.
I’ve never seen this occur except in this special spot, where the geomorphology is “just right” to produce the “blizzard”. The first time I came across the phenomenon I was so confused; it was like nothing I’d ever seen. From far away it looked like egg custard had flowed across the land.
Vinyl Siding and Weathered Ribs
The Old Dump, where I used to photograph the battered and brief history of human occupation in this area, was cleaned up and bull-dozed over a few years ago. I still go there, to walk with the dog, but not to take photos. It’s not the same: weeds have moved in, as they do when ground in our desert is disturbed. Lovely weeds, actually. About hip-high, like feathers; dry stems only. The countryside is dried out and blonde: humidity has stabilized at around 10%.
During the day it’s too bleak even for me, but in late evening, the wind may come up and harsh sunlight lowers to cast deep shadows. Walking is enjoyable, with the addition of a “sea of weeds” rolling and bowing under the hot breeze.