Skywatch Friday: Snow and Flood

Snow on the Santa Ritas 1-23-10

(taken in Sycamore Canyon click to enlarge)

Snow in the mountains means floods in the valley...

...and churning brown water in the Santa Cruz river...

...at Ina Road flows peacefully away to the north.

All photos were taken last weekend on January 23 after the snow and rain of the night before. I went to Ina Road to hopefully spot some black-necked stilts but to no avail. This water was too swift and brown to attract them. However, I did discover that a new walkway has been installed here and I plan to go back and explore the trail. I only saw a few birds here this day and all were birds I had already seen elsewhere, so no additions to the Big January Count at this location. However, I did see a Lark Bunting in Sycamore Canyon yesterday, so that make species number 108 on my Big January Count!

Have a Happy Skywatch Friday everyone!

(I'm off to find some more birds!)

Sunday in Rio Rico

On Sunday we took a drive to Rio Rico, which means "rich river" in Spanish. The Santa Cruz flows through Rio Rico dividing it into east and west halves. This "rich river' now flows with treated sewage effluent and it is not safe to wade in. However, the wildlife has found a rich habitat along its shores. We exit on Palo Parado Road and cross the river to Pendelton Dr. I feel so wild and western driving our vehicle, which we have affectionately named "Birdy" through the shallow water. Crossing here saves five or more miles in back-tracking. Beyond the river to the east the San Cayentano Mountains are framed by trees in this lush riparian area. This is also open range and fat cattle barely glanced at us as they contentedly chewed their cuds alongside the road.

We drive up the side of the San Cayentano Mountains to a place I call "Hawk Hill." High on the shoulders of these mountains, I never fail to see a hawk everytime I am here. We first came down on Labor Day, and a red-tailed hawk was perched atop a utility pole tearing some small rodent to shreds then. Today, a far more peaceful scene awaits me as I watch another red-tail circling overhead to the northwest with the Tumacacori mountains beyond.

These mountain slopes are covered with sparse grass, numerous weeds, and a few scrubby mesquite trees. With the lack of tall trees, the birds tend to use the utility poles and wires for lookout perches. Another bird species that frequents these mountains slopes is the Western Kingbird. While I have seen Western Kingbirds before, I have never seen them in such great numbers. Since I am new to this area, I do not know if this is just an autumn phenomenon, or a regular occurrence, but it is not unusual for me to see 8 to 10 Western Kingbirds together down here in Rio Rico.

As Gus and I walk about on the mountain slopes a few swallows swoop and dive around us. I watch amazed as these magnificent fliers flash past me. I see white rump patches and clean white breasts. I think of violet-green swallows but I don't know if this is within their range. Three of the swallows land on a nearby wire and start to preen themselves. In the overcast light they appear black and white and I am confused as to their identification, so I snap off a few photos and walk back to the car to consult my bird guides where I discover that this is, indeed, their range and only the violet-green swallows have the white patches that almost meet over their rumps and their clean white breast with the white coming up over the eyes. These little birds continue to preen for a long while before flying off again. When the sun finally came out form behind the clouds I could finally see a bit of the greenish color in their shoulders and wings.

I have noticed that the humidity is higher in Rio Rico than it is near Tucson. It seems there are more mosquitoes here also, as well as other insects. As I walk around on Hawk Hill I see a flash of motion out of the corner of my eye. I pause and turn to see this ginourmous spider spinning up its morning breakfast! The grasshopper is still alive and struggling. I walk carefully away, glad that I did not walk into the web myself. When I look back the grasshopper is gone and the web has a huge hole in it. Score one for the grasshopper.

Horned lizard on the slopes of the San Cayentano Mountains 10-5-08 by Kathie Adams Brown

Not long afterwards I discover this little guy crawling about in the weeds near my feet. He is not much bigger than the grasshopper that just escaped from the spider. He is lucky he didn't get stepped on. Let's hope he stays away from that web!

I glance up at the peaks of the San Cayentano mountains. I feel drawn to these peaks for some reason. I feel good here in their shadow. I like their shape and the play of light and shadow on these gray-green slopes. But there is something else that draws me, a connection that I can't explain.




We head farther up the mountain and I discover this brilliant orange butterfly on some wildflowers. I am amazed by its coloration for it is black and orange above, but when it closes its wings the strikingly beautiful orange and white body and under-wings are revealed. Nature is full of delightful surprises and hidden secrets, like treasures, waiting to be discovered.



As we head down the mountain I see a large gathering of some raptor-like birds circling over the agricultural fields of Rio Rico. I ask Gus to stop the car so I can identify what I am looking at. We are on a side road with little to no traffic, so I jump out and stand in the middle of the road gazing skyward with my binoculars. However, a man is working outside in his yard right near where I am standing. He starts to walk towards me with a questioning look on his face. I hastily jump back in the car and we continue down the hill to Pendleton Dr. Here the road follows the valley floor and as we round the bend the swirling flock is revealed before us. Gus takes advantage of a dirt road and pulls off to park. I jump from the car with my bins in hand and call to him to grab the camera. As I focus in I search for field marks to identify what I am looking at. The light colored body, dark hood, and dark flight feathers make me think that I am seeing Swainson's hawks. I have read about them gathering in massive flocks during the fall migration period but I have never seen this behavior for myself. Now, standing here on a dirt road in Rio Rico I watch dumbfounded as masses of raptors circle overhead. Then, I notice the dark shapes on the ground in the thick alfalfa. There, walking about like chickens, are more hawks! As we draw near the fence line the birds nervously take to the air. Some continue to circle, but many come to roost on the ground once again, or in the nearby trees that line the far side of the field. Gus snaps away while I search the flock for any aberrant birds. While I do see a few turkey vultures and I hear a distant raven, the majority of birds are Swainson's hawks, adults and juveniles, dark and light morphs. I estimated the flock to be 110 strong. I am underestimating, I am sure, for I counted 50 birds on the ground, and at least as many in the air.

Adult Swainson's hawk in Rio Rico 10-5-08 photo by Gus

Coming at you! Photo by Gus

Swainson's hawks dropping from the sky over Rio Rico 10-5-08 by Gus

Adult Swainson's Hawk in Rio Rico, AZ 10-5-08 photo by Gus

Juvenile Swainson's hawk in Rio Rico, AZ 10-5-08 photo by Gus

All the while we are watching hawks this little vermilion flycathcer is watching us from the trees that edge the field on our side. We finally tear ourselves away from the scene and head on down the road. A little more than a mile south I spot a gray shape on top of a dead snag. Once again Gus stops the car and backs up for me to see, but this is a busy road with lots of traffic. He pulls off onto the grassy shoulder and I jump out of the car.

Gray Hawk in Rio Rico on Pendleton Rd. 10-5-08 Photo by Kathie

This Gray Hawk watches me warily as I slip a bit closer and snap off a few shots. I am so excited but I don't want to disturb the bird. I also have my sunglasses on, so it isn't until I get home that I realize with frustration the photos are not as clear as I hoped. Still, we had a great time in the outdoors. We saw so many new things today, and I have discovered what I am sure many others already know, that Rio Rico is a very birdy place!

Come back tomorrow to see Gus' best photo posted here for Skywatch Friday!

The Final Day of Big January Birding

January 31

On the last day of January Gus took half the day off and went to the Santa Cruz River on Ina Road with me. The only time I had been here was in October of last year for my IBA training with Tucson Audubon and I remembered that we had counted 175 black-necked stilts. I didn’t have stilts on my Big January Bird list yet, so off we went. It proved to be a good choice.

The Santa Cruz River at this spot receives a steady flow of effluent from the wastewater treatment plant, so while in other parts of Tucson the river is dry except during a rain storm, here there is a reliable source of water and the birds love it.

Besides the stilts there are numerous duck species, killdeer, least sandpipers, spotted sandpipers and a long-billed dowitcher. There are usually raptors here and we saw a red-tailed hawk and a kestrel, but no trace of the peregrines we saw on my last visit here. I would have liked to add that species to my count.

A spotted sandpiper searches for food among the rocks.

I thought of going to the Tucson Botanical gardens to see if I could pick up some other hummingbird species after Gus and I returned home and he went to work, but it was getting late in the afternoon and the thought of driving in rush hour traffic did not appeal to me, so I decided to stay home and take one last walk around my neighborhood. As I was getting my binoculars ready to go, I looked out my back door and saw a Pyrrhuloxia in the backyard. I had not counted one on my yard list for this year, so I waited 15 minutes and did a stationary count for eBird before heading out the door. I didn’t think much of it because I thought I had counted a Pyrrhuloxia in Saguaro NP East when I had birded there earlier this month with Gus. I was wrong. When I entered my bird counts into eBird late on the 31st I discovered this was the only Pyrrhuloxia I had seen this month! It was a final gift from the bird count gods!

A Rufous-winged sparrow catches the last rays of a setting sun.

I am hoping to photograph the odd sparrow I saw with the flock of Brewer’s and rufous-wings I saw while walking the dog. Well, the flock has grown larger but I don’t spot the lone sparrow that was larger with a striped upper breast, an eye ring, striped crown and light malar stripe that curled around its cheek. With further research in 3 bird guides and rereading the notes I took, I am convinced it was a vesper sparrow. While standing there photographing sparrows, a Chihuahua Raven flies overhead. Smaller than a common raven, larger than a crow, the Chihuahuan Raven is found in more arid habitats. It has a higher pitched voice than the common raven and a much different call than the American crow. Notice the fingers on pointed wings and the wedge-shaped tail of the bird in flight.


So here is my final count: 83.Blue winged teal, 84.Cinnamon teal, 85.Black-necked stilt, 86.Long-billed dowitcher, 87.Chihuahuan Raven, 88.Pyrrhuloxia, 89. Vesper Sparrow

Monsoon Season

It is Monsoon season right now in Arizona. When I moved here I assumed there were only two seasons: cool, wet, winter or hot, dry, summer. I've since discovered there are five seasons here; winter, spring, dry summer, monsoon, and autumn. I can't comment on autumn yet because I haven't experienced it. Being from New England, it would take a lot to impress me, but spring was beautiful with the desert in bloom, and dry summer was just that; hot, dry, and very sunny. We had a 36 day streak of temperatures over 100 degrees before the Monsoon hit and the temperature dropped into the 90's.

What I didn't realize before was that with the Monsoon came the humidity. Having moved here to the desert, I had hoped I could avoid this uncomfortable atmospheric aggravation. However, much to my dismay, the humidity during the monsoon is almost as bad as it can be in Connecticut! Though the outside temperature may be cooler, the humidity makes it much more uncomfortable to be outside. When it is 100 during dry summer it might be too hot to be outside at noontime, but once the sun drops, so does the temperature and the evenings and mornings are pleasantly cool until the sun rises again. With the humidity in the air, the soggy warmth follows you into the night and your hair clings to your neck like soggy noodles or a wet octopus.

One of the chief benefits of monsoon is the rain. Most rain comes with thunder and lightening making a spectacular lightening show in the sky. The rain falls in curtains across the desert and the mountains, running off in huge cascades into washes and rivers. I've been driving over these dry rivers and washes since I've arrived here. I've seen their steep banks with railings along some, and dry sandy earth below. I laughed at their audacity to call themselves a river. People rode horses up the Pantano Wash and others rode 4-wheelers in the Santa Cruz River. But now I have seen these same washes fill to overflowing. Nightly the news carries stories of people who have to be rescued from the washes. Sometimes kids or teens take inflatable rafts and try to float down the raging torrents, only to be trapped on sandbars or in trees. The lucky ones get rescued. The unlucky are recovered.

It occurs to me that Monsoon season is like winter in the northeast. It is the most active weather time here and the weather forecasters hyperventilate with excitement. The rains and flash flooding close roads. Micro bursts cause power outages and cancel schools and businesses. The weather is almost always the lead story of the night and dust storms often precede the rains, causing low visibility as they scour the countryside.

My house is built with a wash behind it and a holding basin beside it. It has been dry ever since we moved in, though we have had a few storms. Still, I had never seen the wash run or the basin fill, but now the ground is saturated and last Monday we had a torrential downpour.

I was home alone at the time. Lightening cracked the leaden sky. Wind whipped my velvet mesquite tree and rain poured down in sheets of gray so thick that I was unable to see the mountain behind me and I could barely make out the homes across the wash. My small back yard became a coffee colored puddle with a creek running through it towards the street. I ran from window to window watching the excitement and photographing it whenever possible. I had to see if the wash was running, and so grabbed my umbrella and went outside to see what I could see. The holding basin rapidly filled as a churning chocolate colored river of runoff cascaded down the wash. The force of the water carved a huge crevice in the earth and tumbled the rip rap down into the basin. This was soon buried in sand and clay as the water rose ever higher towards the spillway. It finally crested just 2 to 3 feet bellow the overflow, but other holding basins were not so lucky. The one at the bottom of the cul de sac across from me filled to overflowing and spilled off into the desert.

As the storm abated I had to see what the other washes in my neighborhood were doing. I grabbed my cameras and jumped in my car. I drove down the street and found two washes raging. But then, the next wash down was completely dry with no flowing water! This caused me to shake my head in disbelief at the marvels of nature and hydrology. I drove out to the main road just to see how far I could go but I didn't get more than a quarter of a mile before I encountered water over the road. I pulled off to the side to photograph the sign that said "Do not enter when flooded," then watched as 4 vehicles drove through the rushing water. I turned my car around and drove home. I didn't want to be one of those people who showed up on the nightly news or got a "Stupid Motorist" ticket for crossing a clearly marked flood zone.

That particular storm pulled down 10 power poles in one location. The storm we had this past weekend pulled down 14 in another. Some people are still without power today. While the road crews here don't have to plow snow, they do have to go out and barricade roads during these storms. Afterwards they send out trucks and tractors to plow away the rocks, sand, and debris that the floods leave in their wakes. We may not get snowstorms here in Arizona, but we certainly get weather worth talking about!