Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
I’m not sure why mariners coined the term “crow’s nest” for the lookout atop the mast as “quail’s perch” seems more apropos. Taken in May of 2018, normally his face would be black but on this morning it was coated in the yellow pollen of saguaro blossoms.
After belly rubs Emma would collapse into a puddle of joy, her legs jutting out in various directions so that from some angles she seemed like a stack of cat parts waiting to be assembled. Taken in in 2014, I miss the sky blue walls of my office in Portland but not nearly as much as I miss her.
When you’re on the airplane and think you’re going to have the whole row to yourself only at the last minute someone boards and sits next to you. You’re happy they made their flight but still wish you had the whole row to yourself. At least Trixie doesn’t insist on sleeping nose-to-nose with Boo like she does with Sam.
A curve-billed thrasher sings from a perfect hiding spot, the short curving branches mimicking its bill, taken early Friday morning on the Cholla Mountain Loop Trail. I barely slept the night before but thankfully didn’t crash until later as it was a lovely morning to be out in the desert.
Boo’s been hanging out with me more than usual the past couple of months, sometimes sleeping on my legs, more often tucked up beside me, and lately often sleeping on the couch behind my head. Last night I fell asleep briefly with Boo up there and Trixie and Sam curled up on top of me. I got up to go to bed but after laying wide awake for an hour or two eventually got up and stayed up until I went out for a hike before sunup. I went to one of the closest trailheads and took an easy 5.5 mile loop as I didn’t know if I would start to crash but I didn’t have any issues. Back home and sated with a homemade breakfast sandwich I finally tired and fell asleep on the couch once more, this time with just Sam and Trixie, and didn’t wake until late in the afternoon. Well-needed rest but it may make for a long night tonight …
It probably won’t surprise you to know this one isn’t from a local hike in the desert, saw this lovely creature in the freshwater lagoon at Huntington Beach State Park in South Carolina in 2007.
Though taken in December yesterday’s picture began in May, when I first saw one of the Harris’s hawk hatchlings poke up from the nest. I’m not sure if its sibling had hatched yet, one of the parents (not visible) is laying down behind it with several more adults nearby. I wrote in my journal “There was no acrimony among the hawks given how close they were to each other & the nest, was a little surprised”, understated confusion solved later when I learned they raise the young in family groups. Also wrote “Soaptree yucca are blooming, got too distracted by the hawks for pictures”. That’ll happen!
A week ago as I neared the end of my loop hike, walking down a popular trail, I was stunned to see both Harris’s hawk juveniles close by. This one especially so, the other a bit further back in a palo verde. A couple of the adults were a ways behind me on a transmission tower where the two youngsters eventually joined them. Such a treat to see them so close after watching them so long! Of course they got so big by eating some of my favorite creatures of the desert, such is life in our world. The young fliers are much more confident in their movements now although they have much to learn as they enter their first winter.
I started the morning of the last day of my fall hiking trip in 2006 with snow in the higher elevations of Yellowstone. I didn’t stay long as I’m not used to driving in snow and spent the rest of the day in the lower elevations, finishing the trip watching an elk herd in the Madison area while a steady rain fell. It was October so the rut was winding down and the scene was rather tranquil, this bull nuzzled one of the nearby cows as the rest of the herd lingered nearby. Although it ignored me and the others who watched from near the road, the bull did glance in my direction once while calling out.
It looked like this bull had six points on one antler and seven on the other. There was a ranger there who said the elk in this drainage weren’t living as long as the others, based on analysis of wolf kills they suspected minerals in the Madison River were making their bones brittle. Fortunately I was ready for the picture up top as within a minute the bull laid down to rest. Ten minutes after taking the picture below, I had to say my goodbyes as it was time to start the long drive back to Oregon.
A juvenile bald eagle calls out to other nearby eagles on a rainy winter morning in 2008. Rest Lake had frozen over during a cold snap but by mid-morning a steady rain was falling and soon enough the ice would melt. I was rather surprised years earlier when I first heard an eagle’s call, given their size I assumed they’d have a rather raucous call so I was a bit taken aback by the soft and gentle cry that escaped their fearsome beaks.
Boolie 