The upper reaches of Arrastra Creek remain untamed and fully electrified. The water surges down the mountain in a fully white state, bounding from stone to stone, convulsing, and grasping at fallen timber. The clattering sound is bigger than all the other sounds in the forest. The sharpest birdsong cannot penetrate the din.
And
amid all of this, in pockets and fists of green nurtured by mist, grow rare
beauties: Solomon's seal, queen's cup, and monkey flowers.
Monkey
flowers have a fondness for soggy ground. They are little botanical signposts,
often revealing hidden springs and seeps long before the water reveals itself.
They love having their feet wet. Over the years, I have found them in both
yellow and red. Yesterday, along the fringes and braids of Arrastra Creek, I
found a pair of red monkey flowers in bloom.
—Mitchell
Hegman
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