Last week I just had to enjoy a visit to the enchanting spot where Daggett Creek flows into Mores Creek. The rain has melted the snow here in my yard, but with that slight elevation gain as I drive up into the Boise Mountains comes a return to winter. An iced-over river, some sunset glow reflected between dark evergreen shapes, and in the middle of it all a vibrant, bubbling song.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSElFoVRQWCVo-_oUUSpb6e5P6t_Y0BDen43oUangmVAoUzsX39uFEC9VTb-IJLVwiOOroUatzgR68bCIgo3uw1otMFP13on00bZKXhraFbvhoME0P9Ei6bfrKhVMa3ysCxrT2Vk6HgFU/s400/Daggett_winter.jpg)
And, there, on a rock where Daggett Creek flows into Mores Creek sits a Dipper, alternately singing and preening in the sunset light.