Water Musings

Pearl Lake - May 2023

​The steady drum of rain against my wooden deck is the accompaniment to my keyboard tapping this evening. I look out at the multitude of miniscule rivulets slipping from the grey sky, aspen leaves and backyard grass growing a deeper green by the minute. 

These daily rainstorms (monsoon is the change in the direction of the prevailing wind which causes seasonal change, rather than the rain itself - see below for more info) are the cherry on the sundae following a record winter snowfall - and subsequent melt. My favorite evening walk in May was next to Fish Creek, for as it thundered past all other sound and thought was obliterated. There were unexpected surprises near the Botanic Park along the Yampa River Core Trail: the icy-cold ankle-deep water crossing, the sunshine-yellow daffodils shooting up in temporary ponds. 

It is mind-boggling, the haste of the water at this time of year. Slapping against rocks, jumping high into the air, and leapfrogging itself - this water means business. So fast and powerful it creates its own wind, evidenced by the nearby branches in constant motion. It rockets above, around, over, through, in an undisguised shameless display of desire to reach the far away ocean. 

The reality is these eager flows won’t reach the ocean. Fish Creek joins the Yampa River, which flows into the Green River, the largest tributary of the Colorado River. Much of the water rushing past me in Fish Creek will get hung up in Lake Powell and Lake Mead, and although what doesn’t evaporate will continue along in the Colorado, that once-great river now trickles out in the Sonoran Desert in Mexico, shortly before reaching the Golfo de California (Gulf of California). 

Yet the water keeps moving. In years of abundance, in years of drought. And the larger problem of water in the west drying up is not my focus tonight. 

I think about the character of water in nature. It is in perpetual forward motion, morphing in sync with seasons and conditions. As spring turns to summer and the urgency of snowmelt abates, the waterways are serene - but still moving. Fish Creek flows all winter between snow-mounded boulders, and the Yampa glides along lacy banks of ice.

I think about older rivers and their wandering habits. They form meanders and oxbow bends, as they wend their way through sand, soil, and rock. Fish dart, birds swoop, dragonflies flit. Trees, grasses, and wildflowers thrive. These elder rivers loop and twist, touching more and different places, unhurried, bringing vitality, bringing new life. 

Monsoon
“While a rainy season is part of a monsoon, a monsoon is more than just rain. In fact, monsoons can also cause dry weather. Monsoons are caused by a change in the direction of the wind that happens when the seasons change. In fact, even the word monsoon comes from the Arabic word mausim, which means ‘season.’”
What Is a Monsoon? | NOAA SciJinks – All About Weather