Archive for July, 2009
Tarantula Time
Posted by: | CommentsThe monsoon calls forth many sleeping creatures, among them big brown tarantulas–a common evening sight now on roads and driveways.
Folklore aside, these fuzzy arachnids are almost disappointingly gentle, the very opposite of aggressive and–I’m told–reluctant and ineffectual biters.
The only thing to fear from tarantulas turns out to be the fine hairs that cover most of their body and fall out readily when the animal is touched, embedding themselves in the skin of anyone so foolish. I’m too careful to test it.
Acrobunny
Posted by: | CommentsWater is a precious thing in the desert.
This half-grown Desert Cottontail has somehow figured out how to climb the pot to get to our bird drip. Pretty charming, but we’re checking every night to make certain he’s found his way back out!
Monsoon Morning After
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We rejoice in the summer when monsoon season brings its rains–rains that the newspapers invariably burden with the epithet “life-giving.” It’s true: the ocotillos are green, the chollas are blooming, and the Aimophila sparrows of the grasslands are up and singing their beautiful brown hearts out.
But life-giving doesn’t mean gentle, and we’ve had some doozies in this year’s series of storms. I walked out the back door yesterday morning to find the White-winged Dove that had been nesting above the clothesline perched, stereotypically forlorn and bereft, at the now empty mesquite crotch that had held its flimsy twig platform: gone.
And on the ground beneath, a single fragment of white eggshell.
I’m eager to see whether a new nest appears or the pair chooses the better part of valor and joins the flocks already streaming south.
Brown-backed Solitaire Photo
Posted by: | CommentsBenjamin Van Doren has very kindly allowed me to post one of his photos of the Brown-backed Solitaire he and his Camp Chiricahua companions discovered Thursday. The image is at http://az-birding.com .
The bird was not seen Friday, but was refound this noon in Ramsey Canyon, just a short distance north in the Huachucas. Debate has already started to rage–well, debate has already started to sulk–about the origin of this individual, one of several seen over the years in Texas and Arizona. Up to now, every bird to be formally reported and assessed by a committee has been deemed of suspect provenance; the species is common in captivity in Mexico and south, though it’s beyond me who’d want that song, beautiful as it is in the canyons where it echoes, in their living room.
What I think matters not a whit, but unless someone can convince me that this bird came across the border in a cage and then escaped into the lush canyons of the Huachucas, I’d count it.
The Tables Turned
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It’s a characteristic pose: Cactus Wrens, like this fresh fledgling perched on our back wall, are rarely seen with bills closed. They seem to be constantly picking and prying and chirping and rasping as they move through the desert in search of other creatures to harrass.
But this time of year, turn about seems fair play. The poor wrens can’t turn around without being mobbed themselves by the smaller birds of the yard. Verdins and Lesser Goldfinches are all over them every time they show themselves. All that chipping and fussing draws reinforcements from all across the neighborhood: Curve-billed Thrashers and Black-tailed Gnatcatchers, neither an everday species in our yard most of the year, pour in when there’s a Cactus Wren to be chastised.
