Tuesday, May 6
Cabin in Lower Gray Canyon, Utah
All day long the wind whips across the Green River into the campground, blowing sand and bending bushes. The leaves of the cottonwood tree outside our window flutter frantically. This is a door-grabbing, howling, unidentified-flying-object kind of wind.
A brief lull gives me the opportunity to run outside. I check the branches above the Best Little Trailer. I’m relieved to see the cottonwood branches are young and strong and not liable to come crashing down on us.
I let Bridget and Spike out to do their business.
Bridget rushes back inside as I lean against the door. Poor Spike lifts his leg and almost blows over. The campground is empty except for a tent at the other end, which I suspect is unoccupied. We stay inside all day.
Of course, I don’t take any new photos today.
A few days ago Bridget, Spike and I went part of the way up Lower Gray Canyon. We walk a spur road going toward the river. Spike rushes ahead as we approach a huge cottonwood tree shading the riverbank.
Down the bank he goes!
Spike’s idea of paradise
A tolerant Bridget waits.
Short post today . . .
Toward the end of the day the internet signal becomes increasingly weaker and I don’t know what effect the wind will add. I’d better wrap this up while I can.
Ooh, it’s squishy!
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“Ah, what’s a little mud if it makes you happy, Spike.”
