You could almost mistake it for Minnesota, but the Las Vegas smog gives it away. As at Grand Canyon, visibility is down to a mile or two rather than the tens of miles in days of yore. Ah, well.
Innumerable springs or seeps emanate from the base of the eastern slope. Deeper hued, these "tendrils" frequently terminate in ponds.
One can only imagine the billions of birds that must've soared at one time. Now, just a few feathers seen in the parking lot, dropped, no doubt, from the body of an unfortunate whilst being transferred from the bagging bag to the truck.
The signs say "HUNTING OF WATERFOWL ONLY." You look around and see the beautiful reed-edged ponds with their reflections of the gray, white-out, and no hint of ripple other than from the breeze, and wonder, "What waterfowl?"
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