Marcus Landslide Trail – Page 3

Jojoba

Jojoba has wonderful upright leaves and comes in male and female forms (this is a male), the female has a fruit that reminds me of an acorn which reminds me of Ellie. When we were in Portland we had many old oaks in the neighborhood that dropped a multitude of acorns each fall. They smelled like food to Ellie, not enough for her to eat one but enough that she wanted to smell each and every one just to be sure. The pup did not believe in letting food go to waste! The male jojobas don’t fruit although this one sprouted a white-crowned sparrow.

Happy Hanukkah!

The Canyon Towhee

There are three towhees I see on the trails but the canyon towhee is by far the one I encounter most. I saw them on my hike this morning but this one is from the same trail but in April.

Dance of the Mocker

From June, a mockingbird displays early in the morning from its favorite perch, its dance a mix of jump flights and wing flares and boisterous song.

The Sky Descends, The Earth Rises

Yesterday morning this heavy cloud bank snuffed out the sun just as it was rising but not before giving me a moment of color behind Weaver’s Needle.

The Song Disruptor

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.

Don’t Lend Me a Hand

I didn’t read comics as a kid but I watched the Superfriends on TV and was enamored with Aquaman’s ability to communicate with animals. It would have come in handy on this morning in May as the master blister beetle was trying to move from one blossom to the next but finding it too far out of its reach. I would have loved to tell it to sit still and that I’d gently push the stem closer to the other flower, but alas I could not. Rather than scare it I left it alone, eventually it gave up and moved back down the stem. While I didn’t know it at the time there’s an extra reason not to lend a literal helping hand to these beetles as if they feel threatened they can cause caustic yellow blood to ooze from their legs, which can blister human skin. Lovely to watch though!

Soft

Sometimes it seems everything in the desert is waiting to stab you in one way or the other but here too softness abounds, bounding on all fours.

Shining Robes

The name “Phainopepla” (pronounced fay-no-PEP-la) comes from the Greek for “shining robe,” a fitting characterization of the shiny black plumage of the males, at least on a sunny day. However on this overcast morning last December the soft diffuse light showed off the details in his feathers. They’ve been gone all summer but I gather will be back in the next month or so. We didn’t see them at the rental house but will see them here, though this lovely fellow was on the nearby Marcus Landslide Trail.

Mellow, Yellow

A sleepy master blister beetle isn’t quite ready to shake off its slumber and rise to meet the world. From the heavily chewed flower petals you can see why the brittlebush is both bedroom and dining room for the lovely little ones, at least on the one and only time I saw them this spring.