Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
The verdin were looking a bit ragged, some unlike this one didn’t have much of the normal yellow coloring in the face. They were all wearing damp maroon neckties, a temporary adornment not because they had been bathing in the blood of their enemies but because they had been eating the fruit of the prickly pear. When I got home I found a nice paper online that confirmed my suspicion that this is the time of the year when they molt.
Sunday morning instead of going for a hike I took a long walk through the neighborhood. It was my first time doing it alone since we moved here, my wife and I took a short one a few months ago, but this time I walked much farther. Natural landscaping abounds so I was greeted with many of the same creatures I’d see on the trails, but many communities are gated so I was limited in where I could wander. The hardest part was walking without Ellie, my constant companion for a decade, so I was delighted when on the way back a 3 year old pup named Jackson strained at the leash to meet me and then showered me with kisses when I crossed over to meet him. As I neared the house I saw familiar faces flitting about a patch of prickly pear, dining on fruit almost as large as themselves.
From November at the rental house.
A simple portrait from 2007 of Scout, the most perfect creature who ever lived (that’s objective fact, I’m not biased in any way).
To me it seems the banana yucca should have been named the green pepper yucca but perhaps I’m biased since green curry is my favorite meal (if we’re not counting doughnuts as a meal). I found this one in April, the fruit grows even bigger by summer.
On that April morning we were up before the sun, he and I, one to mend a broken heart, one to feed his hungry children. Ordinarily I would have loved to watch the comings and goings of this Gila woodpecker and his mate as morning broke but Ellie had died a week earlier and standing still meant being alone with my thoughts, a place I was not yet ready to be. I quickly moved on but with each passing week I was able to slow down more and more until I could happily stay in the moment for as long as my heart desired.
Like all the cats, Trixie spent most of her life in the Northwest so the thunder and lightning of monsoon season are a new and unpleasant experience for her. We haven’t had many storms this summer but a mild one the other day really scared her for some reason. She hid in Boo’s favorite spot in one of the bathroom cabinets and wouldn’t come out for her dinner, we let her be and a while later I coaxed her out to eat. She ate about half and then slunk off, keeping as close to the floor as possible. I later found her in my bathroom closet, she had pulled out several of my heavy sweatshirts and made a nest. She looked so comfy had I been Trixie-sized I might have joined her. I gave her extra attention when she finally emerged and by morning she was back to normal.
This male shows why all the Gila woodpeckers I see on my spring hikes have their faces painted in pollen …
You can tell by the way I use my walk …
Cathedral Rock is awash in beauty, with massive boulders and sweeping views of the Sonoran desert, but its greatest beauty sleeps in its shadows, hidden in crevices below the monoliths. Despite its size, the desert spiny lizard is rather shy and often scurries out of sight long before I approach. Thankfully I was not only able to spend some time with this one and watch as he grew sleepy, but ease away and leave him to his slumber.
Boolie 