Breeze in the Pines

How lucky we are in Tucson to be able to drive 30 miles up into the Sky Islands, leaving the 100°+ temps behind and spend the day in the cool mountain breezes.  In the Sonoran Desert region, forest-clad mountain ranges with cool, moist habitats are separated and isolated from one another by 'seas' of arid, hot desert, and can be compared with islands in the ocean, thus the term Sky Islands.  An incredible diversity of plant and animal life exists  on these mountain slopes.  According to A Natural History of the Sonoran Desert, (Steven J. Phillips & Patricia Wentworth Comus, eds., Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum Press, 2000),

In fact, the "sky islands" of southeastern Arizona and adjacent Sonora are now recognized by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature as one of the great centers of plant diversity north of the tropics.



Looking from Mt. Lemmon to Tucson in the valley below, with the Santa Rita Mountains in the distance.

The first thing you notice upon arriving at the trailhead of the Aspen and Marshall Gulch trails is the sound of the breeze blowing through the pines.  And, of course, the almost-chilly mountain air.  My friend Marilyn and I set out on the Aspen Trail with no agenda except to have no agenda.  Yes, we look and listen for birds, but also examine plants, exclaim over fascinating insects, take in the forest scents, thrill to the clouds of butterflies, take too many photos (me), discuss flower identification and marvel at the sheer beauty of our surroundings. 

Especially plentiful were Nais Metalmark butterflies on Fendler's ceanothus.  The tiny white flowers were also attractive to a collection of other insects including flies, bees, wasps and other butterflies. 

 

 

 

Tiny blue butterflies of several species delighted us at every turn.  The shocking blue upper wings of the echo azure made their identification easy.  Yellow-eyed juncos were the most common bird species, often hopping along on the ground, a mom feeding a juvenile.  We were excited to get excellent views of the red-faced warbler who sat still just long enough for me to think about getting a photo.  A beautiful red dragonfly (flame skimmer?) sat patiently for his portrait.

 

 

And just when I was losing hope of seeing one, a small horned lizard scrambled across the path and then froze, waiting for the giant mammals to pass. His camouflage was so perfect that if he hadn't moved, he never would have been spotted. We weren't about to pass, however, without some photos.  This is the greater short-horned lizard, a higher elevation horned lizard who primarily feeds on ants, but will also take beetles, grasshoppers and other insects. 

 

As we sat on a log having a snack, a fresh and beautiful Arizona sister butterfly fluttered by, sitting only briefly.  Stands of bright red bearded penstemon bloomed alongside the path, bird songs competed with one another high up in the trees, and strange little bugs went about their business.  How would you like to be known as the fungus-pleasing beetle?  Well, this guy is, and the fungus seemed mighty pleased!

 

 

Taking the return trail through Marshall Gulch we descended into a cool, moist, leafy microhabitat where deciduous trees such as big-tooth maple dominate, and the creek remnant pools are lined with red and yellow monkeyflower and golden columbine. 

 

 

A beautiful two-tailed swallowtail butterfly patrolled along the creek, and congregating on rocks in the pools were groups of blue butterflies.

 



Too soon we had reached the parking lot, which was now full, and it was time to sit at the picnic tables having a little lunch while going over our lists and through our field guides. 

 

 

Here is our bird list for the day:

Yellow-eyed Junco

Turkey Vulture

Broad-tailed Hummingbird

Acorn Woodpecker

Cordilleran Flycatcher

Common Raven

Mountain Chickadee

White-breasted nuthatch

red-breasted nuthatch

Pygmy Nuthatch

House Wren

Hermit Thrush

American Robin

Black-headed Grosbeak

Spotted Towhee

Black-tailed Gnatcatcher

Stellar's Jay

Red-faced Warbler

 





May your summer bring you cool mountain breezes through the pines.  Happy Summer Solstice!





 

 

In Search of Color

The desert has a powerful, fulfilling beauty, spiritual and deep.  But what it does not have is the glory of autumn leaves in the throes of their annual ritual of changing color. For those of us who have lived in parts of the country dominated by deciduous trees, where 'going to see the color' was a rite of fall, where even the drive to work took one's breath away with the stunning brilliance of the colors, there's just something missing when the days shorten and turn cool, pumpkins appear on doorsteps, Halloween arrives, and yet there are no 'colors'.

To fill this small void, I prodded my husband to drive up the Catalina Highway to Mt. Lemmon, in search of oaks, maples, aspens, sumacs in their fall colors.  It is a particularly fascinating ascent, biologically, passing through a number of life zones from saguaros and palo verdes to oaks and junipers, thence to pines, aspens, firs and spruce, from 2500' elevation to over 9000'.  The biological equivalent, they say, of driving from Mexico to Canada, in just 27 miles.

The Halloween day began prophetically with a colorful sunrise,

and a new bloom.

After a stop for breakfast, we made our way through Monday traffic across town, finally to the Catalina Highway, rising quickly above the congested valley, past the mega-houses carved into the granite hillside, and into the saguaro-studded foothills.  Before long, the vegetation became denser, the cactus giving way to yuccas, pines, oaks and grasses.  Massive rock formations and stunning views of Tucson and its surrounding mountain ranges greet the traveler at every turn.  A popular stop is Windy Vista where tourists snap photos and rock climbers test themselves on the granite outcroppings.

Crazy hoodoos look like people (well, kinda)

and I'm glad I'm not driving so I can enjoy this marvelous scenery.  Though I've seen it many times before, it never fails to inspire and entertain.  As we reached the higher elevations, a lookout offered a stark view of the mountaintop community of Summerhaven and its surrounding forests devastated by the Aspen Fire of 2003.

But color?  No there wasn't much yet. Here and there, a tantalizing touch of shining gold or yellow.

But, mainly it seemed we were a week or more too late for any big show.  Summerhaven is slowly rebuilding, and where once stood decades-old family cabins, now enormous new dwellings sit among a blackened forest of ghost trees.  Through the village we passed and on to the Marshall Gulch picnic area.  Several trails lead from this canyon area filled with deciduous hardwoods and dense lower vegetation along a small ephemeral stream.  Finally, here I was in a cathedral of color and silence.  

A carpet of maple leaves crunched under foot as I made my way along the trail.  The hammering of a woodpecker high in the canopy had me searching for the source.  Finally the movement drew my eye to a downy woodpecker, and then I could hear several of them.  Standing still, small bird sounds became louder and soon I saw movement all around.  Juncos, brown creepers and nuthatches were all busily preparing for winter.  

Shafts of sunlight made their way deep into the recesses of the canyon, lighting up the leaves, setting the colors aglow.  Small pools of water remained in the streambed, covered with a palette of orange, yellow, red leaves.

Bear with me if you see more striking colors every day out your window. I was in a momentary heaven and my camera felt the same, it just kept clicking and clicking.  The blue, blue sky above providing a magnificent backdrop to the forest.

The trail led on and I had to force myself to turn around as the light was fading and the mountain chill setting in.  

A handsome Abert's squirrel, with his pointed ears and bushy tail ran up a nearby tree to watch the passerby, carefully eyeing the black object being pointed at him.

Back on the road to Summerhaven, a white-tailed doe and buck strolled out of our way, not too concerned with the car.

At the Cookie Cabin's patio in the village, we gorged on freshly-homemade berry cobbler topped with ice cream, the biggest peanut butter cookie you've ever seen and a delicious cup of coffee.

Then it was back down the mountain.

Here's to days of beauty, peace, nature, and glorious color!