October 21, 2011
The largest of the lagoons at the state park takes on a different hue as it reflects the color of the setting sun.
Stories this photo appears in:
Riparian giants hold a whole world in their branches, but their time is as fleeting as the human beings they shelter
I heard the warm wind coming from a long way off, rustling through the tremble of cottonwood leaves off down the Verde River. I held my position and my breath on the bank of the river, close by the bass and trout-stocked lagoons of the colorfully-named Dead Horse Ranch State Park. I waited happily for the wind to reach me — swirling through the brilliant yellow leaves overhead. I had come for the comfort that cottonwoods always offer me, especially in the extravagance of fall.