{"id":761,"date":"2015-08-09T21:54:16","date_gmt":"2015-08-10T03:54:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/?p=761"},"modified":"2015-08-21T00:40:01","modified_gmt":"2015-08-21T06:40:01","slug":"rocks-and-owls-exploring-barton-creek","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/2015\/08\/09\/rocks-and-owls-exploring-barton-creek\/","title":{"rendered":"Owls, Rocks, and Water Memories: Exploring Barton Creek"},"content":{"rendered":"

Following the pathway that water has carved out feels almost like going back in time. Or maybe going forward. The time in a dry riverbed feels different, ambiguous. As one walks the stream bed paved by millions of rocks, memories of water emerge in all the shapes, colors, and textures that conform the landscape. The space feels nostalgic. Almost as it wanted us to remember the water run, the rumor, the foam.\u00a0 Last Saturday we walked Barton Creek<\/a>, an urban oasis in Austin that is a great place for hiking, climbing, and sometimes, when the water is running, swimming as well. <\/p>\n

\"rocks-river\"<\/a> It has not rained in the past three weeks in the central Texas area and after having one of the most raining springs in the recent history,\u00a0 the hot weather of the summer has finally arrived with its dryness. With daily temperatures over the 100 degrees Fahrenheit (37.77 Centigrade), it is not surprising that some of the creeks around Austin have dried out. The stream bed of the Barton Creek, for instance,\u00a0 has lost its impetus. Water does not run. The creek has formed small lakes of warm crystal soup in the middle.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_1880<\/a>More than lakes, this bodies of water are ponds with little fish and turtles that are\u00a0 comfortable living in such warm waters. Like essential soups, with bacteria and other organisms, they thrive in silence, perhaps wishing for rain or for the end of the summer. \"IMG_1942<\/a>Rocks and water make such a perfect combination. When the creek is dry they appear like stopped in time. Paused. Waiting to be called again to run. To sing.\u00a0 To dance. Water still and clear. Mirrors of the present. Reminding us of the past.<\/p>\n

\"barton<\/a>The silence and clarity of the millions of white rocks that are on the dry river evokes peaceful memories. Rocks quietly sleeping at the river bed, taking care of turtle dreams.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_1960<\/a>River made sculptures are everywhere in the dry pathway. Ready-mades assemblages and designs of beautifully shaped rocks.\"IMG_1907\"<\/a>\"roscks<\/a>\"river<\/a>Errant rocks that have come to rest in strange poses after their dances and travels. After their riverruns and collisions. Rolling stones. Swimming stones now stopped in time. But still making space. Their perfectly arranged balance sometimes include trees from the river bank.\"three+rock2\"<\/a>In the river bank, trees and other plants provide color and texture to the landscape. Carrying water memories, they intent to climb the walls of limestone rock.\"three+rocks\"<\/a>At some passages of the riverbed, the limestone walls look like caverns, with different colors that are organized in layers, as if they were markers of time. A visualization of the stream growth and shrink.\"limestone-riverbed\"<\/a>Although we were not able to find a swimming hole with cold water that could refresh us from the intense heat, we were still be able to cool down next to the little ponds and relax with the calm landscape. We knew we could head towards Barton Springs<\/a> later at night. We could wait. As every element in the riverbed seemed to be doing. Waiting. In calm pause. Making space for water memories to come back. Reminding us about all the movement and flow with their still gesture. \"IMG_2100<\/a><\/p>\n

As the sun started to go down, coloring everything with its warm yellow-orange lights, we decided to leave the Barton Creek riverbed. As we walked in direction to our starting point some creatures of the night started to wake up. At the top of three, we spotted an owl.<\/p>\n

\"owl-braches-twilight\"<\/a>With the twilight sky, the owl appeared magnificent on the top of a three branch. It was perhaps a great horned owl preparing for a night of hunting. We observed it for a while. We listened to its chant. Then, we were surprised by the visit of another owl who extending its huge wings arrived to the tree branch. Two owls in silhouette with enormous wing capes. Big birds of the night contemplating the riverbed. They were also carrying the water memories of the Barton Creek. The two owls, however, stopped waiting. And flapping their majesty capes flu in search of the night.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Following the pathway that water has carved out feels almost like going back in time. Or maybe going forward. The time in a dry riverbed feels different, ambiguous. As one walks the stream bed paved by millions of rocks, memories of water emerge in all the shapes, colors, and textures that conform the landscape. The…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[128,261],"tags":[69,729,734,730,732,731,733,735],"class_list":["post-761","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-travel","category-urban","tag-austin","tag-greebelt","tag-memories","tag-owl","tag-riverbed","tag-rocks","tag-stream","tag-water"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/761","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=761"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/761\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=761"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=761"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/andreslombana.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=761"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}