Indelible

A funny thing happened the other day on my way to taking winter snow images in Garden of the Gods park here in Colorado Springs. Just as I settled into position for a great scenic shot of Pikes Peak between two rock formations, a commercial jet arced over the mountain, dead center, leaving a bright contrail in its wake.

Timing really is everything in a case like this. Had I gotten my butt on the road even a few minutes earlier, the morning light would have been even better, and there would have been no ugly airline graffiti. I am sure the navigator aboard the aircraft would argue the plane was not at all “misplaced,” but I would beg to differ, from my vantage point on terra firma.

I pride myself on not retouching any of my images with digital software like Photoshop or GIMP, and I am still debating on whether to bother in this case. People viewing a manipulated image would never know the contrail was there, but no matter what I do to obscure or erase the “defect,” I would still know. I literally “can’t un-see that!” It will always be an indelible vapor trail in the landscape of my mind.

That is what really bothers me, I think. Any time afield, no matter what the results, is time well spent, but a true wilderness experience is getting harder and harder to come by. It is nearly impossible to avoid litter of some kind, and then there are those planes. I have to wonder how many flights I have been on that spoiled someone else’s photographic souvenirs 30,000 feet below me.

Yesterday I walked the dog around our complex of townhouses, just after another snowfall. Ours were the first footprints, even on the sidewalk. I have to admit it was both exciting to be a momentary pioneer, and disappointing to spoil the pristine cover of white.

Sinton Pond Open Space

Wetlands here in El Paso County, Colorado are few and far between. Consequently, a handful of artificial lakes have been created for recreation and wildlife. One of the more interesting of these is Sinton Pond Open Space in Colorado Springs

At only thirteen acres, the property actually consists of two ponds. The larger, an impoundment of a natural spring, is full of small freshwater sunfish, and possibly other species as well. Above the big pond is a smaller one, likewise with a few fish, but with more emergent vegetation and better shaded by large cottonwood trees. Here’s a view of that smaller pond. The property abuts Sinton Dairy, which is what you see in the background.

Sinton Pond is pretty much surrounded by industrial enterprises and at least one office park , yet it is a magnet for birds, insects, reptiles, amphibians, and mammals. You also get a nice view of Pikes Peak during the winter months when foliage on the cottonwoods doesn’t hide the mountain.

Since I could find next to nothing on the history of Sinton Pond, I’ll concentrate on the diversity of animal life you can find there. Birdwatchers won’t be disappointed as there are many birds that utilize the pond and the surrounding landscape for feeding and nesting. We found this family of Mallard ducks on one trip there.

With the help of a crow or raven I managed to spy a Great Horned Owl on my most recent visit. One of my scenic shots has a falcon in the distance, too….

Reptiles and amphibians are pretty prolific, too. I nearly stepped on this Western Terrestrial Garter Snake as it sunned beside the trail near Monument Creek, which flows right by the pond.

Both the native Painted Turtle and the non-native Red-eared Slider can be seen basking on logs or other debris in the big pond, especially in the morning.

I was thrilled to find a Northern Leopard Frog on my latest trip, seeking refuge from the hot sun beneath a tangle of brush along the margin of the big pond. Leopard frogs have not fared very well because of drought and the increasing populations of the Bullfrog.

Naturally, I am looking mostly for insects, and there is no shortage. Many butterflies find abundant flower nectar and larval foodplants in the area. I was surprised to find a Questionmark butterfly on June 8, and even more surprised to find it was still there as of July 20! I was downright shocked to glimpse a Giant Swallowtail, also on June 8, though I don’t have a picture to prove it.

The Monarch finds plenty of milkweed here, and a variety of skippers can be seen on almost any visit. There are open areas of varying quality in terms of vegetation, and shady groves of spruce and other trees, and different butterflies prefer different degrees of sun and cover.

Any wetland is likely to attract dragonflies and damselflies, and there is indeed a good variety of odonates here. Big darners (family Aeschnidae) are constantly on the wing, while skimmers (family Libellulidae) of all sorts perch and patrol the shore and adjacent fields. Vivid Dancers, bluets, and forktail damselflies can be found by the score.

I recommend Sinton Pond Open Space to both residents of Colorado Springs and visitors as a place to enjoy hiking, walking, biking, fishing, or just plain relaxing. The site gets a fair amount of traffic (no pun intended, despite the fact that Interstate 25 is about one block to the west and a major rail line about a block to the south), but it is still a relatively quiet place for contemplation and peaceful enjoyment.

Tumamoc Hill

I finally got my act together and made my first ascent of Tumamoc Hill, just west of downtown Tucson, on Easter Sunday, April 4, 2010. The public is only permitted on the property during weekends, and you must stay on the paved road at all times. Why? Well, this particular parcel of land has a very unique history.

The sign pictured above reads: University of Arizona Desert Laboratory, founded in 1903 as the Carnegie Desert Botanical Laboratory, Tumamoc Hill, United States Geological Service. Indeed, this butte has served as a living laboratory for a very long time, and non-university and non-government personnel need to be restricted to protect the study plots. Consequently, the area is closed to the public weekdays from 7:30 AM to 5:30 PM. The hill is very popular with the exercise-minded on weekends. Birdwatchers, botanists, and nature lovers in general also visit. I spotted this Cooper’s hawk while at the summit.

The Carnegie Institution of Washington chose this site to establish an ongoing study of the adaptation of plants to aridity, beginning in October, 1903. That mission continues to this day. The University of Arizona purchased the facilities (several buildings occupy the area) in 1956 to house their new department of geochronology.

Meanwhile, the United States Geological Service (USGS) conducts two major long-term projects: Biotic response to climate variability; and Landscape change in the Southwest.

Walk all the way to the top and you might see a flock of white-throated swifts, or some of the insects they are feeding upon. You will also be treated to some pretty stunning views of Tucson (with the Rincon Mountains in the background), and the Santa Catalina Mountains.

The entire butte is 860 acres (3.5 square kilometers), but 320 acres, including a handful of study plots, changed hands in February, 2009. This came as a result of a state trust land auction in which Pima County made the winning bid (and only bid). Prior to that, Tumamoc Hill was more or less the poster child for a movement to reform state trust land policies. A 2006 effort to change the state trust land system via a state constitutional amendment failed.

Human occupation of this site actually dates back as far as the Hohokam tradition of the Native American Southwest. With any luck, our collective footprint on Tumamoc Hill will continue to be relatively light, while continuing to shed light on the changes in climate, flora, and fauna here.

Springtime in Pima Canyon

The Southeast Arizona Butterfly Association had a field trip to Pima Canyon last Saturday, April 3, and I was privileged to be invited to go along. I wish to thank Fred Heath for furnishing transportation. Our small group was looking mostly for butterflies, of course, and we collectively saw twenty-one species, but it was the incredible variety of wildflowers that got our attention most of the time.

Fred is very knowledgeable regarding the flora of the Santa Catalina Mountains, where Pima Canyon is located, and he was able to name most of the flowers, and find cryptic ones. I passed right by this larkspur (Delphinium), for example, assuming it was “just another lupine.”

Most of the time, this canyon runs dry, but the winter rains and snowmelt this year have the water cascading down the stream in abundance. The extra moisture meant that we saw flowering plants typical of more moist riparian zones. Take this common monkeyflower, Mimulus guttatus, for example.

The flowers, in turn, did offer nectar for many of the butterflies we observed.

This Texan crescent, Phyciodes texana, was flitting from blossom to blossom on the common fiddleneck (Amsinckia menziesii) that is so abundant right now.

Pima Canyon is just a short drive outside of Tucson, and a very popular spot for hikers, so it can be a bit crowded on weekends. Just the same, I encourage visitors to southern Arizona to consider this scenic canyon as a potential day trip. It takes a bit of time to get into the heart of the canyon, but once there the shade afforded by the cliffs, cottonwoods and other trees is a welcome relief from the heat. You can always cool your heals in the creek, too, provided it is running, of course.

Autumn Scenics

Despite my dislike for fall, you can’t be in New England at this time of year and not go out on a picture-perfect afternoon to admire the foliage. Last Sunday, October 25, was just such a day. I went for a walk in the late afternoon to catch the low sun on the trees and the river, and these images hardly do the landscape justice.

My immediate neighborhood here in South Deerfield, Massachusetts is an odd mix of run-down homes and cul-de-sac spurs with obviously affluent subdivisions. Taking a walk down one such road brought me some spectacular views of North Sugarloaf Mountain, and this estate beneath, complete with a riding arena. There I met Kim, who greeted me on her riding mower as she vacuumed leaves off the steep lawn in front of her family’s house, situated right on the side of the mountain. Her daughter was riding her horse, exercising the equine to help it recover from an injury that kept it out of major shows this year.

Kim is typical of the strangers I’ve met here: Warm and friendly, and eager to share their experiences with the land. By the time we parted I had been invited to their Halloween party this Saturday.

North Sugarloaf is the wilder sister of South Sugarloaf, with a deep “saddle” between the two buttes. The farms that abut the base of both are breathtaking and suggest the quintessential romantic rural life. Blight killed off all the tomatoes this year, and tobacco (yes, tobacco!) was a total loss, too. Life is not as idyllic as it appears on the surface.

South Sugarloaf Mountain is the tourist attraction here. A yet-to-be-released movie starring Mel Gibson had a scene filmed at the top last year, where the observation tower stands. Manicured, clear-cut, and landscaped to offer a panoramic view and picnicking sites, it is decidedly less natural than its northern twin. I find the view looking upslope to be more inspiring than that from the summit, which takes a disappointingly short time to reach, even if you do not drive your car there.

Go around South Sugarloaf and you head downhill to the bridge between South Deerfield and Sunderland, over the mighty Connecticut River. This view looks upstream with Mount Toby in the distance.

The Connecticut is a highly-controlled river, its levels at the mercy of floodgates that this year left the water high most of the time. Only rarely did one see sand bars on the island or any semblance of a shoreline along the heavily-wooded banks. Just beyond the tree-line, however, the land gives way to agriculture. The University of Massachusetts has a large farm devoted to growing turf and sustaining cattle, among other experimental pursuits.

Here is a typical view behind the veil of trees.

The light fades too fast and I find myself wanting to chase the sun. The wind has not yet surrendered, and blows a reminder of wilder ways across the surface of the Connecticut, writing in ripples about seasons yet to come.

Lucky Day

Friday the thirteenth is supposedly bad luck in American culture and folklore, but I found that March 13, 2009 was anything but an unlucky day. I was happy to find myself in the company of Jeff and Cynthia Boettner (see “Meet the Boettners” on my Bug Eric blog), visiting from Massachusetts, on the way to Madera Canyon in the Santa Rita Mountains south of Tucson, Arizona.

Upon our arrival midway up the canyon, we found the feeders at the Santa Rita Lodge to be bustling with activity. We were first greeted by the comical sight of several wild turkeys, Meleagris gallopavo, galloping around a pan-shaped feeder, trying their best to eat and chase off the competition at the same time. I did manage to snap a few shots of these magnificent birds, their iridescent feathers shining in the sun.

Gray squirrels were literally squatters in other feeders, and a Coues white-tailed deer, Odocoileus virginianus couesi, soon joined the circus.

Among the many other birds in attendance were acorn woodpeckers, lesser goldfinches, a broad-billed hummingbird, and Mexican jays.

We eventually left the other spectators at the lodge and drove to the trailheads at the top of the canyon. We settled on “Super Trail 134” as our path of choice, affording a lovely view of Mount Wrightson even before we set one foot forward.

The trail meanders through what is mostly an oak-juniper habitat, quite rocky in places. We found an abundance of lizards basking on almost every available rock during the morning hours. The majority of these reptiles were “spiny lizards” in the genus Sceloporus, but the species here are exceedingly difficult to identify. No matter, we enjoyed their antics and often splendid coloration, no doubt in preparation for courtship and territorial defense.

The hike was eerily quiet, save for our conversations, and greetings to other hikers. I suppose the silence was fitting for at least that portion of the trail that crossed into official “wilderness.” Unfortunately, just across the wilderness boundary, one gets an incredibly scenic view of a….mine (sigh).

This part of Arizona is still highly vulnerable to natural resource extraction, thanks in part to mining laws that date back to the 1800s. These are our public lands, and I feel they should be maintained for present generations, future generations, and as a legacy of past generations that included the likes of John Muir, Gifford Pinchot, and Bob Marshall. The Coronado National Forest, in which Madera Canyon is located, is indeed a national gem worthy of respect and protection.