Any local who travels the county road between Skull Valley and Kirkland knows this cottonwood, located at the bridge over the wash as you enter Kirkland. For long years, it housed a major hawk nest, though the nest is gone the past few seasons. I wanted a picture of this venerable tree and so dotter and I stopped by the Skull Valley wash on our way to visit the Santa Maria River.
Not much to see: no water, although in winter, the stream sometimes nears the bridge. We did happen across a fine pile of mesquite pods -- good food for several critters, including people.
It was also a stopping point for people who are inclined to shed unwanted bits and pieces of their lives. A Ford hub cap.
Glaring white plastic pipe. And the prize: a dead truck bench. Very dead.
Why is it that when you have something to dump, in Arizona it goes into the wash (or the river bottom)? You would think that people would, at the very least, pile their junk in the middle of scrub to hide it. But no: into the wash it goes for all to see. At least the amount of Stuff at this particular location was limited.
Linkage: I was busy, busy this afternoon, updating my links over at the right. Take a look -- I've added a good 15-20 new blogs for your reading pleasure. Also, may I point you in the direction of the dotter (OmegaMom), who has poured her frustration with family, flu and below zero temperatures into a series of haiku.
Everybody agrees that Americans are not only too fond of Stuff, they are also overwhelmed with their Stuff. And so the annual (or semi-annual) city trash pickup day produces such throw away displays as two, not one, barbecue units by the roadside. Plus a dead ironing board, as well as a perfecly good chandelier (below) and who knows what else is in that heap.
Today, my haul included a overly cheerful sofa plus a toilet bowl and tank. The latter appears to have been the object of somebody's temper. And, like a period at the end of a sentence, there's the inevitable computer CRT topping the heap.
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