Cactus wrens, thrashers & woodpeckers
Nov. 23, 2015

Perhaps there will come a time when we will venture away from home on an RV trip and not forget anything; however, that has not occurred up to this date in time.  As we set up our “camp” at an RV park new to us south of Tucson, Arizona, a search of the premises failed to turn up the bird seed feeder that allegedly resides permanently in the trailer at the ready for attracting avian life to our vicinity.

Hmmm. . .  very mysterious - Chris carefully packed bird seed, but the feeder was nowhere to be found, so fanaticism demanded that we rush off to the nearest emporium to purchase one.  A trio of cactus wrens could barely wait for it to be filled and hung up ere they descended on it with great enthusiasm, strewing seed every whichofaway.  When they were not making a mess at the feeder, they were inordinately interested in the underside of the truck, evidently picking off bugs that had been mashed and plastered under there as we sped down the highway.

The wrens were soon joined by curve-billed thrashers, Costa’s & Anna’s hummingbirds and Gila woodpeckers.  Those were the fun ones to watch; however, when we were besieged by hordes of mourning doves, house sparrows, rock doves and house finches, I brought in the feeder lest we be kicked out of the park due to the mess.

I had to include this photo because it is so funny - just happened to catch this thrasher in mid-hop.

Warmth . . .

Only five hours from home; nevertheless, we were hoping for a different world, climate-wise.  As it turned out, the back-home temps were not as low as predicted, nor were the southern Arizona temps as high as the weatherman promised.  Ah well, the warmth we really sought was of the human variety and of that, we found plenty.

On our very first day away, we had a superb reunion with Norma & George.  Norma and I have been friends for nigh on to 60 years and that is a whale of a long time!  When I used to hear people say things like that, I pictured them as ancient, possibly mummified dodderers; however, I don’t feel very old at all at this point, so my perspective has changed drastically.

As always, our visit with them was fun, hilarious even, sprinkled with semi-serious sharings and chock-full of love.  Having people in one’s life who share a history is priceless; they know something about the road we’ve traveled, and what a road it was to traverse those six decades . . . now to entice the two of them to come up to the high country for a get-together.

Cochise stronghold, a Kelley clan gathering . . .

Some of the family have transplanted themselves to desert climes, so they are of course a part of our wanderings in the southern part of our great state.  My brother and sister-in-law, Frank & Pat, are ensconced near Huachuca City where their front porch views are of the Whetstone Mountains.

They kindly allowed us to barge in while they were hosting their oldest daughter, Shannon, from Oregon and then we were happily caught up in a larger Kelley clan gathering.  The Thanksgiving occasion prompted additional Oregonians to find their way hence; the visit morphed into a regular reunion.

With all those legs lined up, we look like a Kelley-millipede.

Our desert picnic and hike at Cochise stronghold, one of my favorite-ever places, included Shannon’s Jim and Brianna, and Robby, who somehow has transformed from the dear girl with whom we last hiked on the Peavine Trail in Prescott into a beautiful young lady, still dear but nearly unrecognizable from just a few years ago.  Also got to meet for the first time Bri’s beau, Joey, and were more than favorably impressed - sweet guy, a good match for a sweet girl!

What we're really good at - milling around the food.

We followed up great picnic fare provided by Pat, who is a primo cook, with a hike winding up through the area’s awesome rock formations.

Excuse me - a little help holding this up please?

We climbed until we reached a spring; that was the signal for a short lounging around on rocks overlooking a small clear stream while visualizing Cochise, Geronimo and their band occupying that space long years prior.

The birds that inserted themselves into our consciousness there were northern harrier, red-tailed hawk, phainopepla, dark-eyed junco, Say’s phoebe and common raven.

White Dove of the Desert, Grotto Hill . . .

When that region was a part of New Spain, a mission, San Xavier del Bac, was founded there by Father Eusebio Kino in 1692.  Amazingly, the church that his successor, Father Juan Bautista Velderrain, had constructed beginning in 1783 still graces the desert south of Tucson on the Tohono O'odham Reservation.  That marvelous edifice was completed in 1789; Catholic masses continue to be held there by Franciscans for the native community which built it.

The Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity, who have taught there since 1872, reside in the Mission convent and continue to teach there.  The White Dove of the Desert, as the church is often called, is permeated with a peaceful atmosphere.

Ongoing maintenance and restoration work will hopefully assure that beautiful landmark will be there for many years to come.  The interior statuary and artwork is intricate and detailed to the point it is difficult to take it all in; my pitiful attempts at casual photography were an exercise in futility.

We climbed up on the so-called grotto hill just to the east of San Xavier to view the shrine built in a large grotto, apparently in 1908 on the 50th anniversary of the appearance of apparitions of the Virgin Mary at Lourdes, France.

Giving thanks . . .

The original reason for the trip, expanded to include even more fun, was an invitation from cousins Barb & Jim for the Thanksgiving weekend.  It had been a semi-tradition for them to come hike with us summertimes and for us to head their way in cooler days; however, that was suspended for several years until now.

The four of us are nicely compatible for hiking, birding and exploring; Thanksgiving weekend found us picking up where we left off.  We were joined at the special dinner and later for a day of hiking and birding by 87-year-old Carmen.  What a gal she is - a true role model for how to do the aging thing.

It felt just like home when I saw a large Cooper’s hawk show up for a drink out of Barb's back-yard birdbath.  They seem to be in the habit of utilizing the water we put out prior to eating the birds we feed - semi-rude if you ask me.

But back to that Thanksgiving meal: as delicious as it was non-traditional, we dined in style.  Barb set a table fit for a magazine photo shoot with her fine china for a sumptuous repast centered on Hungarian goulash, a dish I had no idea could be so delectable.

Florida Canyon . . .

Pronounced Flo-ree-da with the accent in the middle, the canyon was a perfect place to spend Thanksgiving day.  We climbed upward along an often-cascading stream of perfectly clear cold water, sometimes scrambling through flood debris and a brushy bouldery canyon bottom.

The views within the canyon and off in the distance both were beautifully punctuated with autumn's finest.

The life of Riley (or Jim)!

Streamside hiking break.

Birding there was a little on the slow side, probably because of our mid-morning arrival coupled with a pretty stiff wind, but we were quickly rewarded with an exciting sighting of a elegant trogan, only the second time we've gotten him.  The first was in Madera Canyon while with Barb & Jim.

Other birds we spotted in the canyon included ruby-crowned kinglet, verdin, common blackhawk, canyon wren, northern flicker, Arizona woodpecker and lesser goldfinch.

Peña Blanca Lake, golf courses & sewage pond . . .

Plenty sated from our Thanksgiving feast, on Friday, we were off to Peña Blanca Lake.  It is situated amidst lovely rolling grassy hills with occasional rocky crags and cliffs punctuating the landscape.  We were there many years back on a camping trip through southern Arizona.  A lodge and little restaurant have been demolished and the lake’s mercury-contaminated-from-mining-slag-sediment removed.  What an gigantic task that must have been - draining the lake and hauling away 200,000 cubic yards of material to be buried elsewhere.

A leisurely walk around the long lake did not net as many avian varieties as might be found in slightly more conducive circumstances; however, between the birds flitting in the water-side reeds, trees and chaparral and those on the lake surface, we added these to the trip list: black phoebe, American coot, ruddy duck, belted kingfisher, western grebe, yellow-rumped warbler, Hutton’s vireo, chipping sparrow, Hammond’s flycatcher, white-crowned sparrow, Bewick’s wren, mallard, pied-billed grebe, northern cardinal, bufflehead and loggerhead shrike. 

My favorite was a wonderful great blue heron huddled on an island at the foot of a cottonwood tree.  He was not moving at all, but his wispy feathers fluttering in the breezes gave the appearance of a stoop-shouldered man wrapped in a ragged cape.

Lunchtime

As avid local naturalists, Barb & Jim know all the good places to check for the usual and unusual birds that might be lurking in the vicinity.  After leaving Peña Blanca, we stopped at a sewage treatment facility just off the interstate highway and were amazed at the wide array of birds!

Incredibly, we saw an American white pelican, a black-crowned night heron and a great egret.  Others new to the trip were lesser scaup, ring-necked duck, American widgeon, great-tailed grackle, roadrunner, neotropic cormorant, horned grebe, eared grebe and western meadowlark.  I am guessing that various structures on the water were part of the attraction for so many birds.  Other birdwatchers stopped while we were there; it is obviously a known spot to view unusual species.

Shortly afterward, we checked a golf course pond to see two spectacular hooded mergansers floating placidly among a passel of American widgeons while vermillion flycatchers zipped back and forth snatching their fare from the air, vying for insects with a black phoebe.