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The largest of the lagoons at the state park takes on a different hue as it reflects the color of the setting sun.

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The comfort of cottonwoods

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.


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