Return in triumph from Confluence Park

Sunday was a sunny day with a fresh breeze: a good drying day, so we resolved that after the weekly laundry was finished we would return to Confluence Park and try to reach the actual confluence this time. We had a weed whacking crew in earlier this week in an attempt to preempt the growth of the tumbleweed that overwhelmed the yard last year and the Asian pear appears to be thriving.

Any identification of living organisms offered here are strictly on the understanding that as Ben Jonson might have said, 'He has small biology, less ornithology, negligible botany, and no zoology', but definitely without intending it as a compliment. Feel free to pity, abuse, and correct me over these shortcomings. Knowledgeable critics are the most welcome and encouraged.

Arriving at the trailhead, when looking through the camera at this inclined outcrop, I became unsteady. As far as I can tell the image is vertical, but that should have served as a warning. Later in the day as I was getting up from sitting on a rock to rest, I lost my balance and fell over. Not a serious fall and the only damaged sustained was by badly bruised ego. I seem to have passed a downward inflection point in the natural decline that comes with age. Some adjustments to my expectations of myself is all that is required. Perhaps the time is close for moving from bi-ped to tri-ped mode. Is it possible to flirt or project a sense of authority when using a walking aid? What are the percentage chances of success in such endeavors?

There are only a few cactuses growing in the park. This unidentified species was on the base & ledges of the rock outcrop.

Many of the local cottonwoods have 'cotton webs' in their branches. This fellow may have some pertinent information. My tentative (no pun intended) identification is a Tent caterpillar from the genus Malacosoma and in the moth family Lasiocampidae of which only six of the twenty six identified species live in North America. Even more tentatively, a Western Tent Caterpillar, Lasiocampidae Malacosoma californica may be the precise species.

This may be a 'Desert Stink Beetle' from the genus Eleodes, but that is not an expert identification.

Moving much faster than the caterpillar or the beetle, a roadrunner was too quick for me. However, one of the many lizards darting about in the riverine flood detritus paused long enough for me to capture a photograph. My best guess at identification would be Uta  stansburiana elegans or Western Side-blotched Lizard, said to be an exemplar of 'rock-paper-scissors' evolution—the idea that a collection of traits where each one beats another, and no one trait is best, leads to the rate of evolutionary mutation being the dominant factor. There were millions of ants marching in columns to and fro their nests in the sandy soil. Some of them were of the larger sort and I expected to have picked up a few stings by the end of the walk, but in fact they mercifully left us unstung.

In their floodplain sections, river beds are rarely picturesque because that is where all the flood borne rubbish ends up as the river slows on reaching a flat profile. It was pleasant to walk in the shade of the trees with a strong breeze cooling us off from the warm sunshine. The water looked unpolluted and in this part of the high desert of Southern Utah just walking among green vegetation beside running water is something of an unusual treat.

At flood times the soft, sandy soil provides little support for the trees and there was much erosion in evidence.

In places the trail departed from its riparian location and took to redundant former river beds.

In other places, fallen trees spanned the watercourse.

Eventually we reached the confluence. Our walk had been along LaVerkin Creek from the right, which joins the Virgin River. The confluence of the Virgin River and Ash Creek is just a few yards downstream. Ash Creek is unusual in that it splits upstream and the main stream flows to join the Virgin River, while another stream joins LaVerkin Creek before that in turn joins the Virgin River. The waters of Ash Creek have been captured, so the term 'stream' may be a misnomer for 'dry channel' in the case of the secondary stream.

Upstream towards the Virgin River Gorge the water looks muddy, but is actually clear and what you are seeing is the sandy river bed overlain by just a few inches of clear—albeit mineralized—water.

Even though we were only at the halfway point of the walk, I felt more or less how that battered tree looks.

Heading back we were able to examine the tree inflorescences more closely: this is the Cottonwood catkin or ament.

This shows the different stages of the vernal growth in progress.

We came across this example of local civil engineering practice and concrete production standards. This lump is upside down: the opposite side is flat, indicating the topside when the concrete was poured. The 'tree' goes all the way through, but it is unclear when it was sawn top and bottom, or what purpose it served when standing the correct way. From a visual examination, I suspect that this concrete would fail every test known in the discipline of concrete engineering. I remember Clive James saying concrete in Communist Bloc countries looked as though the construction crews had forgotton the formula and were adding lard in place of cement. Cast out the old dead tree from thine own concrete bloc before thou… etc

Close-up of the stump.

On the way back, we had an opportuniy to enjoy the fresh green new growth. Those starbursts have not been enhanced.

Temperatures have been rising, but then moderating. Soon, furnace mode will ensue and much of this will turn brown.

 

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