Santa Ana NWR on a foggy day

Giant Swallowtail with forewings raised. One of those totally lucky shots. Happened to click the shutter just as it was about to fly.

Same Giant Swallowtail a moment earlier

My day at Santa Ana was right after a big rain. The trails were muddy, the day mostly overcast and I did not see a lot of birds. I did find my first Altamira Oriole though, one of the Rio Grande Valley specialties, showing up only at the very southern most tip of Texas.

Altamira Oriole. This is the largest Oriole we have in the US

Altamira Oriole nest. These nests can be up to 2 ft long. This one is made entirely of Spanish moss. Like all Oriole nests it’s finely woven and the entrance is at the top.

My overriding memory of Santa Ana is the Spanish moss. I had never been in a place where it grew like this. In the misty morning light it felt like a fairy tale forest in which all manner of strange things might abide. Actually, considering the level of biodiversity at this refuge, there are indeed all manner of strange things out there.

Spanish moss, Tillandsia usneoides

Closeup of Spanish Moss, Tillandsia usneoides

Tillandsias are a large family of epiphytes, flowering plants that do not need soil. They grow generally on trees and vines but are not parasitic, merely using them as an anchor. They can also be found hanging from power lines. Usneoides, the species name of Spanish moss, refers to its similarity to the Usneas, a diverse group of lichens. We have a lot of Usneas in the west, often called Old Man’s beard, and sometimes also referred to as Spanish moss. Neither genus is a true moss. Tillandsias, and Spanish moss in particular, require humidity.

For contrast, here’s a fallen log with true mosses and lichens on it.

Moss and lichen on fallen limb

The other member of the Tillandsia genus that was abundant in this forest was Ball Moss, Tilandsia recurvata. Again, not a true moss. This one doesn’t seem to need so much humidity. I found it at several locations in the valley.

Ball Moss, Tillandsia recurvata

Closeup of Ball moss

Ball moss is a sturdier, less wispy plant. It always assumes a round shape.

Striped Rabdotus, a tree snail and the primary food of the Hook-billed Kite

Striped Rabdotus snail

I didn’t get to see a Hooked-bill Kite. They’re increasingly uncommon in the valley now. These birds have a long hooked bill that varies widely across its range in both size and shape. It’s thought the bills evolved over time to help the birds eat whichever species and shapes of snails were available in their territories. In the lower Rio Grande valley it’s apparently this guy.

Greater Yellowlegs

There are several ponds throughout the refuge, but the sticky mud on the trails limited access the day I was there.

Ladder-backed Woodpecker. With so many new birds in the valley, it was a pleasure to see some old friends once in a while, too. 

There was a tree near one of the ponds into which people had carved initials and symbols, but this tree, rather than retaining them as sunken scars, seemed to raise them up and out of itself. The closest I’ve ever seen to a phenomenon like this is on the Aspen trees, but even then the marks appear sunken with a scroll of dark bark edging them. I don’t know what species this is.

I guess if you felt compelled to leave your mark on a tree, this would be a satisfying one to do that on.

One of three observation towers clustered together on the refuge. This one has an aerial walkway to another tower.

This is a major hawk watch site during migration. I knew that, but this sign blew me away.

50,000 raptors a day! I can’t even begin to picture what that would be like. What a thrill!

But here’s the scary news about Santa Ana. If Trump gets his border wall, the majority of Santa Ana Refuge will be cut off, including these towers. This beautiful jewel of biodiversity, with over 400 species of birds, half the nation’s butterfly species, and old growth forest, will be lost. The nearby National Butterfly Center will lose 70% of its land. Other refuges and sanctuaries along the river will also be impacted.

The specter of the wall is a looming presence and cause for worry all along the river. Santa Ana is right at the very heart of that.

Usery Mountain County Park

This park could be the poster child for Sonoran Desert magnificence. All the iconic keystone plants thrive here–Saguaros, Chollas, Barrel Cactus, Ocotillo, Palo Verde and Ironwood trees. It’s a lush environment and it has only two drawbacks–cold shower rooms, and a shooting range across the road. There’s a fairly constant pop-pop and bang-bang from dawn till dark. You sort of get used to it, or at least can tune it out occasionally, but then you’re trying to follow some delicate chip note and suddenly the guns seem to be blazing away.

This one’s sometimes called Jumping Cholla. Those little bits that fall off do seem to magically embed themselves in shoes, socks, and pant legs. The spines are barbed, too, so you can’t simply pull them out.

It’s also a birdy park, including being home to a lively and noisy flock of Rosy-faced Lovebirds. There’s a strong enough breeding population of these birds in the Phoenix area that they’re listed on eBird now. The first morning there I was lying in bed trying to figure out what was calling so persistently, and somehow I just wasn’t expecting to see bright green birds with red cheeks and turquoise rumps perched on the Ocotillo.

Rosy-faced Lovebirds on Ocotillo

I especially liked this combo–Lovebirds and Phainopepla. This could be one of those little intelligence tests they give kids–which one doesn’t belong in this photo?

Phainopeplas are the only members of the Silky Flycatcher family in the United States. Handsome representatives they are, too. Shiny black with that fiery red eye. When they fly there’s a fairly large white patch on their wings, but it completely disappears when they’re perched. The females are dark gray and the eye is more orange than red. She does get to sport a nice topknot, though.

Here’s another handsome bird with a fiery eye, the Curve-billed Thrasher. In this sunset light he melds perfectly into the scenery.

And then there’s perhaps the most iconic bird, certainly the most iconic raptor, of the Sonoran Desert, the Harris’s Hawk. They’re the only raptor in North America that hunts and lives cooperatively. It’s not at all unusual to see them sitting side by side, leaning in to each other. A birder recently reported seeing 6 of these large hawks sitting on a single phone pole cross-arm. The morning I took these photos there were three of them swooping around the campground. Apparently jackrabbits are one of their main food sources, and one jackrabbit very nicely feeds 3 or 4 Harris’s Hawks. One or two of them will harry the rabbit from behind while the third swoops in from the front to make the kill, and they all share in the feast.

I guess Cactus Wren could vie with Harris’s Hawks for most iconic bird. For sheer sass no other desert bird can touch them. Their raucous rattling calls let you know immediately that you’re in cactus country.

Clear blue sky but the morning was really cold. This Cactus Wren is all fluffed up trying to increase his insulation.

I spent two nights at Usery Mountain, drinking in my fill of the desert. I always find it hard to leave this environment. Will close with more photos of the desert’s beauty.

Even the desert has gotten more rain than usual in this El Niño year. I’m not sure I’ve ever before seen soft green moss under Chollas.

Cholla close-up in early morning light.

Daybreak

eBird checklist: Usery Mt. birds

Lake in the rocks, Prescott

Prescott is tucked in among some of the most glorious brown granite boulders. Big smoothly curved piles of stone that make me want to drape my body across them just to feel the shapes. There are a couple of lakes among those rocks and the park I stay in is just a short walk from one of them. Of course, after starting out talking about the granite, I have no pictures of that rock to share. Just try to imagine it, glowing softly in the late afternoon sun, like the Red-tailed Hawk in the photo above.

Once again, I had less than an hour of daylight to go birding but had a most satisfying time of it.

I couldn’t decide whether this Red-tail was exceptionally rufous or if it was all a trick of the setting sun.

Out on the lake there was a huge milling scrum of Northern Shovelers, with a few Buffleheads popping up in their midst from time to time, and a large scattered gathering of Common Mergansers back further towards the rocks.

Northern Shovelers enjoying a community feast

eBird checklist: Watson Lake, Prescott