Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
While his siblings nearby practiced flying on a breezy spring evening, one last kestrel wasn’t quite sure about entering the wide world beyond. I feel such sympathy for the last-to-fledge, on the precipice between the only life they’ve known, the comfortable life that must end, and the dangerous path ahead where they can live their fullest lives. Taken near sunset in 2021.
Another picture of Bear and The Elephant, taken towards the end of an afternoon hike a few months ago. It’s hot enough now that such walks are verboten, it’s early morning or nothing. Evening swims are now on the table though! I have switched back to this leash, which we bought on the day we adopted Ellie in 2009. We have fancier leashes but I’ve always come back to this one.
A gilded flicker uses saguaro fruit as a perch, taken a couple of weeks ago while the fruit was ripening. Taken at the end of a short sunrise hike after barely sleeping the night before.
A great horned owl steers its ship between the edges of day and night, the sun starting to fade on a warm spring evening as I hiked my way out of the park. Though I rarely hike with it I had my biggest telephoto with me that day so when I looked out across the desert and saw a strange bump atop a boulder I was able to throw the camera on the tripod for a closer look. I won’t tell you how many days I looked at this shot on my computer before I realized there were two owls in the picture. In my defense the second owl wasn’t visible when I started the sequence of shots.
Sunset can bring some amazing colors to the desert, some days more than others. A quick snapshot from our backyard on a rainy evening in May.
I call this soaptree yucca “A Boy & His Pup” in honor of Bear and I, though the appellations aren’t quite appropriate for either of us, consider it artistic liberty or a nod to our spirits and not our ages. We’re looking south on the Redbird Trail, the trail closest to our house and a favorite for dog walks. The yucca is close to the area where we enter the preserve and I’ve wanted to photograph it for a while, on this day in May both arms were in full bloom and as I turned to look back at the end of our walk saw the sinking sun was only falling on the flower stalks and the distant hills. I took several compositions but at the moment this is my favorite, one in a long series of the light arriving into or departing from the desert.
I had four days off for Memorial Day and was able to get up before sunrise on three of them, taking a short photography hike before a quick trip back home to pick up Bear and bring him along for a longer hike. Only possible because the trailheads are so close by, one of the main reasons I wanted to settle in this part of the city. I call this saguaro “The Muppet” as its center arm has a face that reminds me of something I might have seen on Sesame Street while growing up, though this muppet lives on the Latigo Trail. Taken as the light first cleared the mountains.
Saguaros have been flowering for a little while now but this one had extra blossoms courtesy of a gentle breeze and its palo verde neighbor. A quick snap with the Z fc while walking Bear this morning.
On Friday Bear had another new experience in the desert when he saw his first Mojave rattlesnake. I use the term “saw” rather loosely as though I was keeping a close eye on the trail in front of us, it’s quite narrow in this section and as we rounded a kink he walked right past it and I, following close behind, only saw it at the last and instinctively hopped over it.
After my heart started beating again, with the snake so docile and Bear so well behaved, I took a few moments to watch it from a safer distance. It was on the small side, motionless apart from an occasional flicking of the tongue, and seemed to have a green tint to its coloring. The funny thing is, I only see hints of the green in the pictures, perhaps a trick of the light or a trick of the fright. It was coiled up on top of its tail and never sounded the alarm with its rattle. After a few quick pictures and taking a moment to revel in its beauty, we warned an approaching cyclist and continued on our way.
I love peaceful encounters with rattlesnakes but I don’t need to come that close to one ever again. I wasn’t sorry we were taking a different route back to the car but I am thankful I got to watch it for a little while, it was only my second time seeing this species and it’s such a treat to watch them when you both feel safe.
After seeing his first rattlesnake on Saturday, the desert offered Bear another first on Sunday when I took him to the Pima Dynamite trailhead for the first time (and my first visit in a long time), hiking from there to the Brown’s Ranch trailhead. At the end of the hike from a distance I heard a rattlesnake and it continued its rattle as we approached. It was safely off the trail hidden under a bush (I never did see it), but I also couldn’t see the source of its agitation until we rounded a bend and saw a bobcat relaxing in the shadows next to the bush. I was shocked Bear didn’t seem interested in it, and that after a quick glance it didn’t seem bothered by Bear. When Bear asked what a bobcat was I said it was like Trixie but several times larger and with less attitude.
Last night as we relaxed in my office the cats sprang off me when there was a rustling outside and we heard chomping on the other side of a large bush. Not wanting to scare whatever was enjoying a meal I waited until at last the chewing stopped and a small bobcat trotted into sight before disappearing into the neighbor’s yard.
We’ll never see the desert’s big cats but the small ones do put on a show from time to time.
Boolie 