Commentary: Arroyo Seco becomes an arroyo furioso

The Arroyo Seco is one of our area’s most unusual features. Going upstream from JPL it moves in a mile or so into not only the pre-space technology era or even the pre-industrial revolution but also into pre-agriculture. It is a true wilderness, dense vegetation wherever water is found, scrub everywhere else. It is an isolated world, confined within virtually unscalable mountainsides that soar a thousand feet above the valley floor. High up, Angeles Crest Highway can be made out clinging dizzily to the valley sides, and at times a few hawks circle above everything.

But within these savage boundaries, the sound of gentle flowing water never ceases, not even after a five-year drought. The gurgle, so refreshing on the hottest day, comes from the only all-year-round stream for miles around and is usually so small that it often can’t be seen at all through the underbrush that has grown more luxuriant than ever since the devastating Station fire.

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Not so after last weekend’s deluge: the shy rivulet had turned into a raging monster. Never was a valley so carelessly misnamed: it was about as dry as a Prohibition-era speakeasy and just as dangerous to the health. A false step here from anyone reckless enough to try to get a close-up photograph would have resulted in a very soggy guest column.

Below is our manic-depressive neighbor, the first in December 2013, the second on Monday of this week:

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REG GREEN lives in La Cañada. His most recent book is “87 And Still Wandering About.”