Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
Our backyard saguaro while likely a bit older than me is still pretty young and has never flowered. Every spring I check for signs, we live in hope, and this year my faith was rewarded. Not a full mop top like our saguaro out front but I saw woodpeckers feeding on it when the flowers opened and there is fruit ripening there now.
📷: Nikon Z 7II | Nikon 24-70 f/4
🗓️: May 11, 2025
Noticed some flower buds starting to grow on saguaros yesterday, won’t be long now.
📷: Sony A6700 | Sony 100-400mm + 1.4X
🗓️: May 29, 2024
📷: Nikon Z fc | Nikon 105mm Macro
🗓️: May 27, 2023
I was thinking of Brussels sprouts when I took the picture but when this green grows it is the start of one of the desert’s greatest sights that doesn’t involve a lizard. This tip of a saguaro flower bud will bloom into a large white flower, kicking off a feeding frenzy of birds, bats, and insects. Another feeding frenzy follows when the red fruit ripens.
📷: Nikon Z fc | Nikon 105mm Macro
🗓️: May 27, 2023
While I enjoy scenic views my favorite part of hiking is seeing animals and plants, so I love visiting trails over and over and over and over and seeing friends both new and familiar. On this occasion a Scott’s oriole singing atop the flower buds of a saguaro, I had seen it in the area on previous hikes. Nothing exotic about the location, I’m standing on the path between the parking lot and the trailhead structure. But what beauty there was to be seen!
📷: Sony A6700 | Sony 100-400mm | Sony 1.4X
🗓️: May 29, 2024
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.
Last year after getting some confidence identifying the more common birds and mammals and reptiles of the Sonoran Desert, I decided to start learning the desert plants. I spent an evening reading up on the trees (there aren’t a bunch, this shouldn’t have been hard) but the next morning I couldn’t remember anything I had read the night before. I was a little frustrated with myself but heard a pleading voice that there had been too much that was new and to focus on the things I had to learn, not the things I wanted to learn.
As a creature of habit I knew Arizona would provide beneficial opportunities to experience something different but also that there was so much different both at work and at home that it might be overwhelming (the pandemic hasn’t helped). So I heeded that voice and put aside the guide books and stuck to familiar nearby parks rather than venturing further afield, trying out trails new to me when I felt up to a little challenge.
This summer has brought a mild awakening in being willing to learn new things, spurred on partially by the giant cactus out front that exploded in blooms after the summer monsoons and brought in a host of small creatures to feed on its bounty, and the butterflies that similarly burst into view at the same time either in our yard or on my beloved trails.
Insects have been tricky to learn but I believe this little lovely is a leaf-footed bug of the species Narnia femorata but take that with a grain of salt, I’m not a biologist much less an entomologist, and this is all new to me besides. While they apparently prefer prickly pear (the neighbors have a glorious patch) a group of them have been hanging out on this big cactus in our front yard, feeding either on the buds and blossoms like here on a rainy summer evening, or on the fruit that grew after the pollinators got to work.
A few weeks back flower buds dotted the tops of saguaro arms with the occasional early bloomers producing a flower or two. Normally the flowers are white but this one appeared to have a red mustache, perhaps a trick of the light as the sun dipped behind the mountains and only a little direct light fell upon the high points of the desert.
Last weekend I stopped at the end of the Rustler Trail for a water break, trying to decide which way to meander on the network of trails, when an oriole flew into the ocotillo in front of me to feed from its flowers. Caught flat-footed holding a water bottle I didn’t want to make any sudden moves towards the camera, we both needed refreshment, but I did get a chance for pictures when he flew off to a distant saguaro and sang to me from the flower buds before disappearing down the trail.
I made a mental note to add Bullock’s oriole to my bird list for the day even though I was surprised his plumage was so yellow. It was only when I got home and looked at the pictures that I had a little laugh at myself when I noticed his head and shoulders were solid black and, while clearly an oriole, he looked nothing like a Bullock’s. In my defense I had gotten up two days in a row for a sunrise hike, the first time this year, so the old gray cells were not in finest form.
I fired up Sibley’s on the iPad and discovered my friend was a Scott’s oriole, a new species for me and thus a new species in my attempt to photograph every animal of the Sonoran Desert atop a saguaro (though I have to say, the mammals aren’t cooperating).
I ended up hiking the Upper Ranch Trail to the Rustler Trail to the Latigo Trail to the Hackamore Trail to the Tarantula Trail to the West Express Trail, returning via the Hackamore Trail to Cone Mountain Trail to Upper Ranch Trail. It was my first time on the West Express, there are formal trails in this part of the preserve now instead of the temporary off-map trails that were there before.
From last spring in the early morning light, a canyon towhee finds a soft perch atop a saguaro courtesy of its large flower buds. A pleasant reminder that spring is coming and a not-so-pleasant reminder that the already cruel sunrises will only get earlier. I’ve managed zero sunrise hikes so far this year so I’m not off to a promising start.
Boolie 