Weekly Roundup – February 8th

Encuentro Beach, Dominican Republic Photo Credit:  Steve Nixon

Encuentro Beach, Dominican Republic
Photo Credit: Steve Nixon

It wasn’t quite beach weather last week, but it was too warm for New Mexico in February.  I watched with alarm as the piles of snow from the prior week’s snowstorm evaporated within days.  The recent drought summary from NOAA indicated that conditions have slowly been improving.  We’ll see if that trend continues.  After all,  Punxsatawney Phil  predicted six more weeks of winter on Groundhog Day.

New Mexico has gotten a lot of press for its coyote-killing contests over the last few years so I was pleased to see a new billboard on Interstate 25 between Santa Fe and Albuquerque (visible from the southbound lanes near Algodones) that says, “End wildlife hunting contests.”  This week the state took a step toward that goal when a bi-partisan bill (SB 253)  cleared the Senate Conservation Committee by a vote of 6 to 3.  The  Albuquerque Journal  voiced their support of the bill in this editorial.

Next weekend is the Great Backyard Bird Count, a citizen science project that helps identify and track bird populations around the world.  Last year observers in 135 countries identified nearly 4300 different species.  The count takes place February 13th -16th and is open to birders of all ages and levels of experience.  I attended a presentation on Saturday by the Santa Fe chapter of  Audubon New Mexico  to brush up on  identification of our local birds and to learn more about the count.  It sounds easy enough, fifteen minutes (minimum) observing and counting and then, submitting results at birdcount.org.  More detailed instructions are provided here.

Have a good week and take some time to go outside!

 

 

 

Weekly Roundup – February 1st

What are you going to do with what time you have left?
-Robert Redford

Photo Credit:  R. Gartner

Photo Credit: Richard Gartner

After a week in warm, dry California, I didn’t relish coming home to Santa Fe to find  I needed to don my puffy jacket and get out the snow shovel.  It  was heavy and wet, perfect for making a snowman, but I was too tired by the time the driveway was clear. This morning  blue skies have returned; the storm has lumbered off, headed to the Midwest.

It’s Super Bowl Sunday.  Since I don’t have much interest in either team and am not a Katy Perry fan, watching the commercials seemed to be the excuse I needed to serve beer and Buffalo wings for dinner.  But it turns out you can watch those on YouTube–at least some of them.

This beer commercial has been heating up my Facebook news feed for several days.  Wildlife advocacy groups have taken exception to the snarling wolf threatening the puppy and have urged people to sign a petition asking Budweiser not to air the spot (it worked to get the GoDaddy commercial pulled).  Late yesterday the New Mexico Cattle Growers weighed in asking folks to let the beer giant know that they supported it.  I am focusing, instead, on the recent enthusiasm for “Je suis Charlie.”  I don’t like the spot and wolves don’t need more bad press, but if that’s the way Budweiser chooses to sell beer, so be it.  I will not be serving Bud Light at my Super Bowl party.

The Sundance Film Festival ends today.   Last week “Democracy Now” devoted one of its shows to an interview with Robert Redford, the founder of the festival.  He spoke about global warming, the Keystone Pipeline, and politics.  In this segment he talks about his new movie “A Walk in the Woods”.  Based on Bill Bryson’s 1998 book with the same name it tells the story of two middle-aged guys (played by Redford and Nick Nolte) walking the Appalachian Trail.  I remember laughing out loud when I read the book years ago and I look forward to seeing the movie.   It’s the East Coast counterpart to Cheryl Strayed’s book, “Wild“, about walking the Pacific Crest Trail–another movie I have yet to see.

And finally, my favorite story of the week.  A rare fox has been spotted in Yosemite National Park.  Biologists estimate there are only about fifty of the Sierra Nevada red foxes left.  This is the first time in one hundred years that one has been documented in Yosemite.  Thanks to my friend Lori for sharing this good news story.

Have a good week!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Hundred

 Photo Credit: Kurayba via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: Kurayba via Compfight cc

Yesterday’s post about the California drought was my one hundredth.  A little late–I had planned to reach that goal by the end of 2014.

No matter.  I’m there now.

Thank you. Whether you subscribe, or follow on Facebook, or just check once in awhile to see if I have posted anything new, I appreciate it.

Your comments and observations are welcome and I’m still looking for guest posts.  Let me know if you have a story, or poem, or photo that you are willing to share.

Next up:  my cousin James and his backyard chickens!

The California Drought and the Ridiculously Resilient Ridge

Photo Credit: P. Nixon

I spent the last week traveling in California.

On the drive from San Diego to Sacramento through the San Joaquin Valley no sign of blossoms on the fruit and nut trees, but the fields and hills were green.   Near Wasco flocks of sheep grazed, knobby-kneed lambs staying close to their mothers.   Dave made a u-turn so I could get a picture of this wary ewe and her baby.

Heavy autumn rains had started to ease the drought in some parts of the state until the spigot shut off in December.  Why did the rain stop?   This story on Friday’s edition of The California Report says it could be due to the return of the Ridiculously Resilient Ridge or Triple R, a high pressure system trapped over California that keeps conditions dry.  This atmospheric phenomenon was identified and named by Stanford PhD candidate, Daniel Swain, in 2013.  He says in a recent post on his blog that this year’s condition is not quite the same . . . yet.

Whatever the reason it looks like California could be headed into a fourth year of drought.

 

 

 

 

 

Weekly Roundup – January 18th

Photo Credit:  Eli Nixon https://www.flickr.com/photos/really_still_photography

Photo Credit: Eli Nixon

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.
–Martin Luther King, Jr.

I’m off to a very slow start in the new year, but the news keeps on coming! I will try this for a week or two:  a roundup of stories and photos,  most nature-related, some as follow-up my prior posts.

It was hard to miss this story– 2014 was the warmest year on record according to both NASA and NOAA.

In northern New Mexico we had a couple of cold, foggy days early in the week along with two or three of inches of snow helping, I hope, our new piñon trees put down roots.  But according to this article in the Santa Fe New Mexican the long term outlook for the Southwest’s piñon forests is dire.  As temperatures continue to warm the prediction is that we will experience longer droughts and the loss of our trees along with wildlife, like the squawking jays at our backyard feeder, that depend upon them for sustenance and cover.

The other big news in our region was this press release from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) about changes to the management of the Mexican gray wolf recovery program.

Some of it was good news.  The wolves, a subspecies of the gray wolf (Canis lupus), got their own separate listing as an endangered subspecies (Canis lupus baileyi) which will allow them to receive continued protection under the law even if the gray wolf is delisted.  The bad news is that the lobos will not be allowed to roam and  establish territory north of Interstate 40 in areas like the Grand Canyon where prime habitat exists for them to live and hunt.  This editorial  favoring more robust protection of the wolves, as I do, was published at azcentral.com  and covers more of the pros and cons of the new rule.

In California a few days into Tommy Caldwell  and Kevin Jorgeson’s barehanded climb of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park, their story was covered on NBC Nightly News, capturing the world’s imagination.  I thought about them each day and was thrilled to hear that they succeeded.  Here is the New York Times article about their adventure.  And for another take on it, this poem published at PoetryFoundation.org.

And finally, how lovely is this soaring golden eagle captured on camera by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.

Have a good week!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A New Year’s Resolution

 Photo Credit: abejorro34 via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: abejorro34 via Compfight cc

One resolution in two parts.

Go outside.

Pay attention.

It’s simple, but I have to remind myself.

Even if it’s only the short walk to the mailbox.  Stop and listen–that sharp “peek peek” whistle–is that the ladder-backed woodpecker that was hanging off the seed cylinder this morning? I know him by sight, zebra-striped back and red crown, but not by voice.  No sign of him to confirm.

Before coming inside I stoop to look at tracks in the remnants of last week’s snow–two short and two long, A field guide confirms they are the tracks–front feet behind the back–of the rabbit who keeps a low profile in the scrub beyond the patio, showing only an occasional glimpse of the top of his ears or the flash of his white tail.

It’s a start.

 

 

 

 

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Reflections on the Death of a Tree

Pinyon Tree 1901-2014 Photo Credit: P. Nixon

Pinus edulis 1901-2014
Photo Credit: P. Nixon

The forest stands at the door, a lone man in a light
green shirt. An owl sits in his hat, confessing
simple hymns that are scarfed into clouds.  The man
holds a small box of baby birds and insects covered
in leaves. The pathway he took to town
is a small umbrella of gems:  bloodroot and hickory,
trillium and oak, an avalanche of wise eyes sighing,
the constant monologue of hummingbird wings.
Stiff from walking such a distance through autumn’s
altar, his many limbs are twisted. He salutes me,
then gently stomps muddy feet on the doorstep.

From The Forest Man by Lauren Camp*

It wasn’t disease or drought that killed the old piñon tree last summer.

Dave and I tried to save it. An arborist took a core sample and counted the rings—113. In the end, to resolve a long-running dispute, we let it go. I didn’t watch the bulldozer knock it down.

The contractor brought in two trees from up north to replace the old pine and planted them a few feet away from the new driveway.

The transplants with no history of this place remind me of us twenty years ago.  It was a cold January afternoon and the sun was low in the sky, but one long look at the mountains in the distance and a deep breath of the pine-scented air convinced us. It has taken time, but we’ve made this quiet little corner of New Mexico home.

Last night, Christmas night, a few inches of snow fell, blanketing the trees and the earth beneath them.  The moisture will help the newcomers spread their roots and settle in.

*Many thanks to Lauren for allowing me to use an excerpt of her poem.  I recommend reading the entire poem  in About Place Journal where it was published in the spring of 2013.

 

 

 

Gina’s Chipmunk

Photo Credit: P. Nixon

Photo Credit: P. Nixon

Chipmunks were a novelty when I was a kid. They don’t live in western Kansas, so we first got to know them on our family vacations to the Rockies.  The tiny ground squirrels with their racing stripes and bushy tails never failed to entertain, scampering around the campsite, eluding our efforts to catch them.

They are frequent visitors to our backyard in Santa Fe, drinking out of the birdbath and chasing each other around the yard looking for stray seeds.  But lately there seem to be more of them and I was amazed last week to find one sitting on a window bird feeder fifteen feet off the ground.

The feeder is filled with oiled sunflower seeds for the finches and chickadees, but the chipmunk has taken over, sitting on the tray and gorging while Gina, the cat, watches and I rap on the window.  It scares him off for a moment, but as soon as I turn my back he returns.

I suspect there are two of them–a tag team–launching themselves off the nearby portal (deck) to the narrow window ledge.  Yesterday they cleaned us out.

No sign of the chipmunk this morning, just a spotted towhee picking through the hulls.  When I refill the feeder later today, I’m going to move it to another window–beyond the leaping range, I hope, of the average chipmunk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Longest Night of the Year

Will there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
–Emily Dickinson

 Photo Credit: Larry1732 via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: Larry1732 via Compfight cc

At 4:03 pm in the mountain standard time zone, where I live, the sun passed directly over the Tropic of Capricorn.  That was the moment when the North Pole was tilted furthest away from the sun, the winter solstice.

As I write this the last sunlight of the day brightens the clouds hanging low over the Jemez Mountains.  It’s a darker, quieter, slower time of year.  I try to pay closer attention to the details:  a  small drift of piñon pine cones scattered across the snow that fell last week, a cheery canyon towhee splashing in the heated birdbath.

I am always in a hurry to spot the first sign of spring, but here’s to taking a moment to appreciate the unique beauty of winter!

Sit Still and Pay Attention

The Big Island was in a dark and sulky mood when Dave and I  visited Hawaii in early March.  Waves pounded the Kohala Coast and a mix of storm clouds and vog from Kilauea obscured the sun.  The warnings were dire.  Sneaker waves and riptides made it dangerous to get close to the water.

Photo Credit: P. Nixon

Photo Credit: P. Nixon

It didn’t matter much; we had work to do, but on our last day the sky cleared and we walked the shoreline access to Anaeho’omalu Bay.   We hurried past the lava ponds eager to reach the rocky beach,  hoping to see a turtle or two, but there were none to be found.

No one knows why for sure, but Hawaiian green turtles come on shore (unlike many other sea turtles) to bask in the sun.  It may be as simple as the pleasure of a warm nap without the threat of being eaten by a tiger shark.

A well-situated piece of driftwood convinced us to stop hunting for turtles and sit down.  Mesmerized by the sunlight on the water it took a moment to realize  I was looking at  one of the two-hundred pound reptiles.  Slow and awkward on land, the turtle or honu, as it is called in Hawaiian, was graceful in the water. bobbing in the waves, occasionally extending its leathery neck above the surface to take a breath of air.

I expected it to disappear quickly, to swim away, but the big turtles don’t move fast, only about a mile per hour.  Once they find a good place to eat the sea grass and algae that make up the bulk of their diet, they tend to stay put.

 Photo Credit: mattk1979 via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: mattk1979 via Compfight cc

We sat and watched until the sun went down.

On the walk back we saw a handful of surfers legs astride their boards silhouetted against the darkening sky, hoping to catch one more big wave.