I got to go grubbing around a riverbank again—this time a much bigger
waterway, even, the Bitterroot River. Not quite paved with the same kind of
treasure as Rye Creek to the south, but different treasures abounded on a
“stone bar”…it was like a sandbar, but made of stones anywhere from
sand-grain size to my-double-fists size, with most of the stones small
enough for me to pick up single-handed. And it was more than big enough
that when I wandered too far away from my neighbor’s truck, he simply drove
along behind me! There were a few lovely rocks that had clearly started out
as some kind of crystalline formation, but these little things (and
something else that looked like tiny, sunshine-yellow snapdragons) were
equally common and just as precious in their own way. I don’t know if
they’re wild forget-me-nots, but they sure are cute! This particular stem
reached a regal height of maybe four inches all told. Whatever they are,
durability must be their middle name; any seeds they drop have to survive
the frosty nights now, the water rising as early-season snow melts off
during the day (and it’s only going to take maybe six inches total to cover
80% of that ‘stone bar’ they were growing on), the frozen river edges of
deep winter to come, and the frisky spring floods before they can try to
grow.
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