A strip of golden desert soil and pueblos is offset by the distant silhouettes of mountains. Running through the foreground is a curtain of delicate stripes that Baumann has cleverly carved and printed so that each stripe contrasts with its background, light on dark and dark on light, creating the effect of rain. From Chamberlain, p. 316: "The village of Arroyo Seco is seven miles north of Taos and situated just below Lucero Peak. The area wasn't settled until the beginning of the 19th century, and its economy was based on agriculture and mining."
With all the wide expanse of horizon to observe them in, rains here take on a new meaning. They are not just an occasion to remember a forgotten umbrella or galoshes. A steady gentle downpout of benfit to the land may turn into a cloudburst carrying fertile fields into raging arroyos. The Indians in their language distinguish the two as female and male rain. Another kind I've frequently seen in the Taos valley they call "walking rain." In thin streamers it descends from the clouds like long curtains. Varying winds may blow these curtains in different directions before they reach the ground or they may vanish somewhere in the clear hot sunshine to rise and try again. - Gustave Baumann, cat. 108, p. 316, In a Modern Rendering: the Color Woodcuts of Gustave Baumann