I’ve had no real measurable rainfall at my house since last July; 2009 saw Tucson get about 6 inches of rain. It was a disaster; even the saguaro in my yard looked parched.
But all that changed this week: in the past 5 days I got 2.5 inches of rain at my home. And when it rains that much here in the winter, there’s snow in the mountains.
I’ve posted photos on this blog of the (usually dry) bike/pedestrian path where Bearbear and I go for walks. Here’s a shot near sunset today of the semi-urban path, with water:
The condos kind of ruin things. Oh well. Bearbear was very good and sat–per my instruction–as I took my photo:
Once the sun goes down, the Catalina Mountains usually turn pink in the fall, winter, and spring when the angle of the sun is just right. The pointy bit, which you can barely see, is Finger Rock. Again, too bad about the condos.
I remember going on a forced march up that trail to Finger Rock when I was in 6th grade. I don’t think I’ve been back since; that trail is like going up stairs, and I think it’s about a mile of elevation gain per mile of trail.
Writing this, I’m reminded of a story in the Arizona Star about 15 years ago, when I think Forest Service employees found a fort someone had illegally built up near the base of Finger Rock; someone had hauled up concrete (!) and water up the murderous trail and actually mixed and poured concrete and built a small, barely perceptible fort; there was evidence that people had spent some time living in it, too. Insane. I mean, that is really nuts. I admire whoever had the nerve to do that; though he or she may very well be eligible for admission into a psychiatric hospital.
I just searched for a link to the story, but, I can’t find one. Too bad. It’s a unique bit of local history. Here’s a final shot of it getting dark as Bearbear and I headed home, to the unusual sound of running water:
More soon on updated quilt art, fiddle tune transcriptions, and the closing of the Grasslands.