Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
We see a lot of overlap between the birds of our backyard and the birds of the desert but not with towhees. I’ve seen three species of towhees in Arizona, Abert’s towhees all summer in our yard and just recently a spotted towhee, but the canyon towhee shown here I only see on the trails.
On April 28th I arrived at my first visit to Brown’s Ranch in McDowell Sonoran Preserve, my fifth hike and fourth hiking location since moving to Arizona a month prior. I was pleased that even though I arrived mentally and physically exhausted I was forcing myself to go out and explore some area parks, even though it meant getting up a while before sunrise. As soon as I stepped past the welcome center I was reminded that while I should be proud of all I had accomplished the past six months, my struggles had been minor compared to what many face every day. There in the arms of a saguaro, the light just cresting the distant hills, stood a cactus wren with a twig in its mouth, building a nest in such a seemingly inhospitable host in a seemingly inhospitable land. Brown’s Ranch became an immediate favorite as did the plucky wrens that in the coming weeks I got to watch not just build their nests but raise their families in them.
Emma was not happy about the arrival of little Boo in the summer of 2013. On his first foray into the house at large he had to climb the stairs first past Ellie, then Sam, and finally Emma at the top. I spent most of Boo’s first month with Emma, letting her know this was still, and always would be, her home. She was a sweetheart and in time not only came to accept the little fellow but let him snuggle up with her. It’s still hard for me at times to edit pictures of her, knowing that in a year and a half we’d be going through another introduction, this time getting Boo to accept young Trixie after Emma died far too young.
Both Sam and Emma followed Boo around as he explored but Sam watched Emma as much as he watched Boo, here looking up at Emma atop the stairs as she growls at the intrusion of the young kitten. Sam loved his life with his two older sisters and never wanted it to change, but when they both died young he accepted his new siblings pretty quickly.
After all the changes in our lives this past year I feel a special sympathy for when we adopted terrified little Boo five years ago. He worked so hard to conquer his fears and embrace his new home, you could see the struggle in his face and I suppose for months I wore that expression too. I took this picture of a broken saguaro within a month of arriving in the desert when so little in our lives seemed familiar yet we were excited about our new home. It seems to me a guide, waving with one arm held high to attract the attention of the lost, another arm pointing the way home. Shattered, surviving, standing, strong.
A Gila woodpecker peeks out of his nest in an old saguaro along the Jane Rau Trail in McDowell Sonoran Preserve.
I hope there are little things in your life that bring you as much joy as these tiny lizards bring to me. The common side-blotched lizard is the lizard I see most although they can be difficult to photograph because of their small size. Most of the time I just watch them sunning themselves or scurrying about and am thankful they are there, and I with them.
My wife (unseen in the chair) wears a cat hat, courtesy of Trixie who sometimes likes to press her body against your head and neck. Not too comfortable for us but it sure is adorable.
I am not broccoli.
I am tall, taller than you.
I am rare, doubly so.
I am a double crested saguaro. While most saguaros have tips of the familiar shape, some grow into fan-like shapes know as crests. Crested saguaros are rare, this one has two crests. This is the only one I’ve seen so far, a reader pointed out its location near Granite Mountain where the Coyote Canyon Trail meets the Desperado Trail in McDowell Sonoran Preserve.
Granite plays a large role in the Sonoran Desert but there are lots of other types of rocks here too. However since I don’t know my rocks I tend to call everything granite unless it’s something like quartz that even I know.
Boolie 