The river level is rising from melting snow in the mountains and it surges through like white water rapids, accompanied by warning signs posted on bright orange stands. I was pleased I had Pepper on a very long rope, because he'd be the first in and swirling down towards the sea, based on his track record. An intricate network of gentle streams and tributaries wend their way around the willows in Hansen Dam. It's an urban park (despite being a thousand acre catchment area for the Big Tujunga creek it is also bordered by Lake View Terrace and Pacoima) -- the trees are tagged with graffiti, there is detritus from teenage drinking binges, family picnics, Mexican cowboys, hasty lovers, but it still possesses a peaceful beauty. The dogs and I waded up to our knees in the warm water and I thought about Switzerland and Heidi and Grandmother's bread. These pictures aren't particularly good, but it's highly unusual and somewhat cheering to see so much green in Los Angeles at the end of July. And being in the middle of nowhere surrounded by the shimmering verdant world and three spotteds is good for the soul.