3/24/07
I had traveled I-84 several times while living in the Rockies and visited home, but I had missed the sign on the highway in Idaho pointing the way to the Bruneau Sand Dunes State Park. Sand dunes in Idaho? Cool! I had to take the side trip to see them. Living in Denver, I had taken a weekend trip to the the sand dunes at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains before the area became a national park. I knew these wouldn't be quite the same, but I was on vacation to see sights.
Driving the country road through Mountain Home, ID, I came across an odd form sitting atop a fence post. I didn't pay too much attention to it as I'm familiar with farmers who decorate their fences with odd sorts of memorabelia. I soon realized that is was tras on the fence but a golden eagle getting a sparrow's eye view of the field below. Descending to the Snake River valley, I pulled into the state park and found the dunes overlooking the prairie.
A series of sand dunes, the tallest reaching 470 feet above the prairie, greeted me as I parked the car. A pair of jackrabbits hopped through the sagebrush, uncertain if I were predator or friend. Early moring sunlight bounced off the dunes and cast interesting shadows in the curves of wind-shaped sand. Of course I had to walk p on of the dunes and slipped off my shoes as I approached the closest. Brrrr! It had been cold the night before and the sun had yet to warm up the sand. I didn't mind though, sand through my toes (even cold sand) brought back childhood trips to the beach with my sister, playing "chicken" with the waves, laughing as we ran up the beach away from them. I felt that giddy urge to just run to the top of the sand dune and slide down the other side. I did refrain from sliding down - no need to ruin such a melodius shape created by the wind.
The ducks in the marshes below squacked and flapped their wings, preparing for ther morning bath, I supposed. Birds twitered and a breeze ruffled the sagebrush, other than that, I was alone on my dune, drawing shapes in the sand with my big toe, watching the light change the shapes and directions of the shadows. I don't know how long I played in the sand, the sun was still lower to the horizon than not when I drifted back to my car. The jackrabbits had already taken refuge for the day. I made a quick stop in the visitor's center and read more about the nature and history of the area and thought June would be a nice time to return - when the flowers colored the prairie. But for now, I had other places to see.
I had traveled I-84 several times while living in the Rockies and visited home, but I had missed the sign on the highway in Idaho pointing the way to the Bruneau Sand Dunes State Park. Sand dunes in Idaho? Cool! I had to take the side trip to see them. Living in Denver, I had taken a weekend trip to the the sand dunes at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains before the area became a national park. I knew these wouldn't be quite the same, but I was on vacation to see sights.
Driving the country road through Mountain Home, ID, I came across an odd form sitting atop a fence post. I didn't pay too much attention to it as I'm familiar with farmers who decorate their fences with odd sorts of memorabelia. I soon realized that is was tras on the fence but a golden eagle getting a sparrow's eye view of the field below. Descending to the Snake River valley, I pulled into the state park and found the dunes overlooking the prairie.
A series of sand dunes, the tallest reaching 470 feet above the prairie, greeted me as I parked the car. A pair of jackrabbits hopped through the sagebrush, uncertain if I were predator or friend. Early moring sunlight bounced off the dunes and cast interesting shadows in the curves of wind-shaped sand. Of course I had to walk p on of the dunes and slipped off my shoes as I approached the closest. Brrrr! It had been cold the night before and the sun had yet to warm up the sand. I didn't mind though, sand through my toes (even cold sand) brought back childhood trips to the beach with my sister, playing "chicken" with the waves, laughing as we ran up the beach away from them. I felt that giddy urge to just run to the top of the sand dune and slide down the other side. I did refrain from sliding down - no need to ruin such a melodius shape created by the wind.
The ducks in the marshes below squacked and flapped their wings, preparing for ther morning bath, I supposed. Birds twitered and a breeze ruffled the sagebrush, other than that, I was alone on my dune, drawing shapes in the sand with my big toe, watching the light change the shapes and directions of the shadows. I don't know how long I played in the sand, the sun was still lower to the horizon than not when I drifted back to my car. The jackrabbits had already taken refuge for the day. I made a quick stop in the visitor's center and read more about the nature and history of the area and thought June would be a nice time to return - when the flowers colored the prairie. But for now, I had other places to see.
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