Wednesday Morning Wake Up

(Mt. Fagan)

I wipe my groggy eyes and roll over in bed. The room is dark and cozy with a soft gray light. I wonder what time it is since it feels later but the room is still so dark. It’s 7:45 a.m., long past the time when the sun should have illuminated my room like the high beams of a truck parked outside. I snuggle into the covers, enjoying this overcast morning. Breezy Boy, my cat, curls up into the hollow of my body and purrs away. I am thinking that maybe I will stay in bed and enjoy this luxury just a few moments longer but suddenly I hear scratching on the patio door. Gus had let the dog out just before he left and now Blossom wants to come in.

I trundle out of bed and open the door. Blossom prances in like she owns the world. I pop my head out to feel the day and catch a whiff of rain in the air. Dark clouds are mounting over the Santa Ritas. Mount Fagan looks dark and broody. It looks like a curtain of rain is falling on the Rincons, but still the slopes are sending smoky plumes into the sky, and mixed with the smell of wet desert I can also smell the smoke. There are 8 fires burning now in Southern Arizona and the Distillery Fire in the Rincons has grown to over 5,000 acres.

(Rincon Mountains)

The cats follow me out to the kitchen winding around my legs and begging for breakfast. I step out this patio door to see the thermometer. It is 83 degrees and comfortable with a strong breeze gusting sometimes to a full wind. Off to the west, however, the sky is blue and clear. Sunlight beaming out from beneath the edge of the cloud bank illumines the mine tailings of Green Valley into a golden table land. It cuts a sharp edge against the pale blue sky.

(Green Valley Mine Tailings)

Once I shut the door the birds return to feasting in the backyard. Once again the finch feeder is covered in Lesser Goldfinches.

(Lesser Goldfinches on thistle seed feeder)

Mourning Doves are gleaning the seeds from the ground while flickers, Gila Woodpeckers and thrashers all vie for the peanut feeder. Out the den window a lone juvenile Gambel’s Quail pecks beneath my globe shaped feeder. His bland gray color blends in with the mourning doves but his shape and the plume atop his head betrays his true species. Over on this side of the house the house finches mob the globe shaped feeder while house sparrows pick at the quail block. A Canyon Towhee joins the fray and grabs whatever seeds it can. Then a feisty Cactus Wren flies in and chases away a thrasher to grab a peanut that was dropped on the stony ground. It’s just another day for Kathie’s Birds here in Sycamore Canyon, but the Monsoon is creeping ever closer and we may get storms this afternoon.

(Canyon Towhee at seed cake)

For now, I leave you with this peaceful scene of a potted dove. She has built her nest in this pot on a neighbor’s front porch. The family can sit in their bench and she does not flinch or fly away. My neighbor says she has seen the eggs when the mother flies off to feed in the evening. The male hangs around on nearby rooftops, waiting for the hatching and his job to begin of feeding the little brood. For me, the question arises: does the mother actually trust my neighbor and her children, or is her mother’s instinct so strong that she will not abandon the nest in spite of great fear? If the latter is true, I can’t help but wonder if I could confront my own fears in the same way.

Note: All of today's photography is by Kathiesbirds with the Nikon D80 and the 70-300mm lens except for the morning dove which was photographed Saturday, June 21, with the 18-70mm lens.