Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
When I think of flower stalks I think of the delicate stems of the wildflowers I’d see on hikes through most of my life, like daisies or columbine or fairly slippers. The soaptree yucca, on the other hand, has a towering stalk that’s thick at the base like a tree limb before tapering into thin branches at the top. Even so it is a testament to how impossibly light birds are that this bedraggled thrasher only slightly depressed its perch as it sang on a sunny winter morning.
Word of advice little one, i keep a bowl on my nightstand where I put all the contents of my pockets, it’s the only way I stay organized.
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.
On Sunday a heavy cloud bank in the east snuffed out the sunrise but as I made my way back up the trail I was delighted when the sun poked through with such soft, diffuse light that it revealed every detail in the feathers of the birds and the spines of the cholla. I turned around and commanded the sun and clouds to hold their position for the next hour, just in case I had been granted the power of omnipotence without my knowing. Sadly I had not, though there’s always tomorrow. I was able to watch as the thrashers chased each other through the cholla, the black-throated sparrows chittered about, three cottontails poked in and out of the desert scrub, and sight unseen Gambel’s quail and Gila woodpeckers sang the Sonoran song. Just another magical morning in the desert.
Back in June I woke up early before work so I went out for a short hike, spending the morning the way I had the previous two mornings, watching a mockingbird dance and sing as the sun rose. The previous day a curve-billed thrasher had flown in and the mocker stayed out of sight for a while, but on this morning I got a picture of it singing right as the first light arrived. But then almost on cue the thrasher flew in, dried saguaro fruit clinging to its beak, and the mocker yielded. I noticed the previous morning that although it would lay low for a while whenever the thrasher flew in, eventually it would always come back to dance and sing, but on this morning work waited so I could not.
No matter how many times I witness it I can’t quite wrap my head around how birds can fly in at full speed and land on a cactus with densely packed spines, such as this curve-billed thrasher on a chain fruit cholla. I adore this cholla (and the similar teddy bear cholla) but they are best appreciated at arm’s length, they are even more fearsome than they look.
I thought there might be a tussle when the thrasher on the right flew onto the saguaro as the other ate from one of the fruits but perhaps they were a pair as they got along fine. They had both been enjoying their breakfast as their beaks were caked in dried pulp.
This curve-billed thrasher flew in while I was watching some woodpeckers. Thrashers are a yard bird for me, one is eating just a few feet away now, but this one I met on the Latigo Trail.
Last night we had a lovely time with my aunt and uncle who were in town. Before dinner we took them up to show them the new house and as I stepped out of the car a curve-billed thrasher serenaded me from across the street. This lovely thrasher is from December on the Marcus Landslide Trail, I’ve been itching to get back to this trail but it’s really close to the new house so I’ve been focusing on other trails when I have both time and energy to go out.
After a hike up to Inspiration Viewpoint this morning when it was too windy for my liking, the day turned lovely and I’ve spent the rest of the morning and afternoon relaxing on the back porch. At the moment there are house finches and sparrows atop the feeder while below are Gambel’s quail, mourning doves, and Eurasian collared doves. A pair of curve-billed thrashers have been drifting in and out throughout the day, making their presence known with loud whistles. This one I saw singing atop a saguaro six months ago while hiking early one morning on Brown’s Ranch Road in McDowell Sonoran Preserve.
Boolie 