In my mind’s eye I saw the picture I wanted to take, the cholla next to the prickly pear, almost hugging. The cacti were a ways off the trail and even with my longest telephoto I knew I’d have to crop the image a bit, which was fine, I grabbed a quick shot before heading off as I had a little hike yet to reach the exit by closing. It’s not quite the shot I wanted, a better angle was a few steps down, literally down, as the trail descended a small hill. At that spot though too many plants obscured the view, I would have needed to be 50 feet tall to get the camera high enough. It’s a frequent issue but at this stage I doubt I’ll develop Late Onset Extraordinary Gigantism. I haven’t given up hope, I bet Godzilla wasn’t expecting it either.
When we arrived in Arizona the desert was both exciting and bewildering, like I had been plunked down into a new earth that only hinted at the shapes and forms I had known all my life. Brown’s Ranch helped orient me in two ways, both on display in this view of the crested saguaro on the Vaquero Trail. First were the saguaros themselves, they tower above the desert floor and while initially most seemed similar there were some with features so memorable that just by seeing them I could orient myself without consulting the map. But towering even above the saguaros are the hills, such as Brown’s Mountain in the background, and the three I saw readily from the trail each had a distinctive shape that made them easy to distinguish from one another. The trails are well-marked (and maps readily available at the trailhead) so I wasn’t in danger of getting lost, rather it was a way for me to relax by developing an instinctive feel for where I was, and where I was going.
I’ve seen a few crested (or cristate) saguaros, where instead of their iconic arms they grow these unusual shapes, and love them all but this one is my favorite. I named her Witch Hazel as she reminds me of the green witch from the Bugs Bunny cartoons I watched as a kid. I always had a fondness for her but I’m not sure why as I usually didn’t feel any affection for his pursuers, but perhaps she was written rather sympathetically. My witch looks over a woodpecker nest in an adjacent arm and I like to think serves as its protector, and not just for this nest but for all the woodpeckers in the area that I so dearly love. Long may you live, long may you serve.
As I shuffled up the Vaquero Trail this morning I suspected clouds in the east would snuff out the sunrise, and I was mostly correct, until I heard a familiar call and looked to the south. One of the Harris’s hawks I watched this spring and summer was perched high on one of the transmission towers that run across the Preserve, some of the clouds behind glowing orange. I got a little sunrise after all.
This Harris’s antelope squirrel had the high ground early on a June morning, perched atop granite rocks atop a small hill, so it saw me from a distance as I approached up the Vaquero Trail. The rising sun soon joined us and we spent that wonderful moment together when the light first sweeps across the desert landscape. It was moments like these that made me fall in love with the area, the trail is close to our new house so perhaps the squirrel and I will be reunited before long. I haven’t been hiking since we moved, Ellie’s had a tough week adjusting to the new house so I’ve spent my evenings with her when she struggles the most and have been too tired to go out in the mornings. We’ll see about tomorrow, the wildflowers are in full bloom so it would be a shame to miss them, but she’s a higher priority.