The Trouble With Tucson

Ecologically and economically, Tucson, Arizona may be one of the worst western cities.

I moved from Tucson to Colorado Springs, Colorado to be with my girlfriend, but I probably would have left anyway given the clash between my lifestyle and the realities of this Sonoran Desert city. I must preface this critique by admitting I am spoiled. I grew up in Portland, Oregon and also lived eleven years in Cincinnati, Ohio. Those two cities rank one and two in per capita greenspace of all U.S. cities. If only Tucson was even on the radar in this regard.

False Advertising
Don’t let the tourism machine fool you. The city of Tucson has essentially no natural areas. The renowned Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum is west of Tucson, on the other side of the Tucson Mountains. Sabino Canyon, a very popular destination for hikers and tourists is located north of the city limits by about six miles. Neither of these attractions is serviced by public transit. You must have a vehicle to access truly wild habitats, including the many life zones along the Mount Lemmon (Catalina) Highway.

Tohono Chul Park actually is serviced by Sun Tran (the city bus system), though it is just outside the city boundary in the far northwestern corner. Unfortunately, Tohono Chul is a private park that charges a rather substantial admission, whether or not you park a car there. They do provide superior natural history interpretation, including the best presentation on reptiles I have seen anywhere.

Where is the Wild?
The city itself has made almost no effort to provide natural parks. I frequented Greasewood Park on the extreme western fringe by Pima Community College West Campus. There are picnic tables, one central ramada (shelter), and trails, but the park is notorious as a meeting place for gay men to have trysts. Kennedy Park on the southeast side has a few trails and backs up against the truly wild Tucson Mountain Park, but it also has a “lake” stocked with fish, and the requisite ball fields, even an amphitheatre.

Indeed, the county parks are the truly natural parks, but again, they are inaccessible by public transportation. Roy P. Drachman Agua Caliente Regional Park is a unique, albeit heavily managed, wetland frequented as much by birdwatchers as the average family wanting a barbecue venue. There is also an art gallery and the local Audubon Society chapter has a presence there.

The Sonoran Desert Conservation Plan
I got all excited when I first arrived in Tucson back in 2001 because I learned of the Sonoran Desert Conservation Plan, a county blueprint designed to protect critical habitat for vulnerable species like the Cactus Ferruginous Pygmy Owl. I attended a meeting full of enthusiasm only to learn that the entire City of Tucson was exempted from the plan. This would never be tolerated in Portland, and probably not Cincinnati, either. The Tucson Audubon Society is finally addressing the idea of urban wildlife habitats and corridors, but their emphasis still seems to be on leading birding trips to other areas of southeast Arizona.

Jobs, or Lack Thereof
”You get paid in sunshine” is a recurring excuse for the low wages of Tucson. True, the cost of living is fairly low there, but you can’t get ahead, either. There is an almost complete absence of mid-level jobs. It is either literally “rocket science,” with high-end optics, defense (weapons) contractors, and bio-engineering demanding a highly-educated workforce, or “Do you want fries with that?” While immigrants, illegal or legal, probably don’t impact the availability of jobs, the insistence on catering to non-English speakers means that if you are not bilingual your chances of landing many types of jobs is slim.

Sprawl
Maybe the most overriding and bleakest aspect of Tucson is its sprawling nature. Tucsonans are quick to point to Phoenix as a sprawling, smog-shrouded city to be avoided at all costs, but they don’t have much room to argue sitting in the Old Pueblo. Long ago Tucson decided you couldn’t build anything over two or three stories so as not to obscure your neighbors’ view of the Santa Catalina Mountains, but the price of this has been low-density development and a horizontal expansion that shows no signs of even slowing, let alone stopping. Meanwhile, the economic decline has resulted in many, many vacant storefronts that breed graffiti and other forms of vandalism. Litter swirls in the dust devils. The homeless occupy alleys and city parks.

So Long
While I truly love the friends I made while living in Tucson (and it took a long time to find them given the odd demographics), I can’t say I’m sorry to bid farewell to the town itself. I don’t know yet whether Colorado Springs will be much better, but I’m more optimistic. Tucson *might* be able to turn itself around, but it will take some strong-willed visionaries, and a lot of time. Good luck with that.

Tucson Festival of Books

This past weekend, March 12-13, 2011, I had the pleasure of participating in the third annual Tucson Festival of Books, “Where Words & Imagination Come to Life.” Held on the campus of the University of Arizona, it drew an estimated 100,000 people over the two days.

On Saturday afternoon I was part of a three-person panel, moderated by Justin Schmidt, discussing “Southwest Dangers: Things That Sting, Bite, Poison…and Kill.” Also on the panel was Amy Stewart, author of Wicked Plants, and the soon-to-be-released Wicked Bugs. Scott Calhoun, another resident Tucsonan and garden writer, rounded out our trio.

I was all prepared to hate Amy Stewart for treading on “my” turf with her Wicked Bugs book, but she is actually humble, friendly, and impossible to dislike. No pretense whatsoever, and that also applies to Scott. Once we were finished with the panel discussion and booksigning that followed, we got a head start on the author’s reception at a local bar. Later, we had dinner with Simmons Buntin, founder and editor of the online journal Terrain. I could not have asked for a better day, or better colleagues and companions.

I am not at all sure who decided I belong is this esteemed company, but the organizer of the panel, Jenn Berry of the Pima County Library, was very appreciative of all of us. I know I sure enjoyed the experience, and hope to do more of this kind of thing in the future. I do think I need at least one more book under my belt, though….

Being an audience member is good fun, too! These book festivals offer workshops on writing and publishing, discussions of current events, regional issues, sports, politics, religion, you name it. There was even a cooking demonstration tent at the Tucson Festival of Books, plus lots of exhibit booths by local authors, agencies, and media. C-SPAN brought their bus and broadcast much of the event. Then there is the food!

I highly recommend attending the book festival nearest you, or starting one in your own city.

Rodeo

I do not like the Tucson Rodeo, but not for the reasons you might suspect. While the event draws its share of animal rights activists in protest, it throws a wrench in the day-to-day life of those who do not take in the parade as participants or spectators. The parade has also been visited by tragedies.

Those who are real rodeo snobs refer to the rodeo by its Spanish title, La Fiesta de los Vaqueros. The parade has been going for 86 years now, and is supposedly the longest non-motorized parade in the continental United States. So “popular” is the parade that Tucson closes schools, from elementary to the University of Arizona for at least the parade day (Thursday), if not the day after as well. Some local businesses also close, which means if you have errands planned you could be out of luck.

Unfortunately, those who go to watch the parade have occasionally been witness to disaster. In 2006, the buggy carrying the Mayor and his wife was rammed by a horse pulling another wagon. The Mayor had a bruised arm, but his wife suffered whiplash and a concussion and had to be taken to the hospital. The following year, a five-year old girl riding in the parade was thrown from her horse and then trampled to death by horses pulling a stagecoach. Complicating matters was the fact that by rule she should not have been allowed to ride in the first place. Children eight years and older are the only ones permitted to ride on their own mounts.

What about the cruelty to animals employed in the actual events of the rodeo itself? Here is where I part ways a bit with the animal rights community. My feeling is that the greater crime has already been committed, centuries ago when we domesticated these beasts and compromised their genetics forever. Selective breeding has made them human creations. What we do after that is at most adding insult to injury. They may still be “sentient beings,” but barely. There is little elegance to a cow, especially when compared to a truly wild ungulate.

Surely I can’t feel the same way about horses! Well, they technically have no place here at all: The Spaniards brought them to North America. Wild mustangs are not wild, they are feral, and do not deserve the same consideration at the truly wild mammals with which they compete for habitat and forage. I am not about to advocate sending them all to the glue factory, but what we need is a dedicated range for a small population. Make it the “Wild Mustang National Wildlife Refuge” or something, but get them concentrated so bison, elk, and other such wildlife can have the landscape that is rightfully theirs.

I remember attending a rodeo as a child in Oregon. I wasn’t that impressed, though I do recall that cowboy Larry Mahan was something of a star, perhaps because he was born in Salem, Oregon. There is no doubt that these men (and women) are athletes, as are today’s ranchers who scratch out a living on the range. The rodeo may simply not be the way to celebrate the buckaroo any longer.

Surprise!

It was a normal end of the day routine: go to the bus stop, wait. Glance up to see what birds are on the wires overhead at the corner of Grant Road and Alvernon Way in central Tucson, Arizona, hoping the time will pass more quickly. Saw a lone bird atop a utility pole. You know how you have those conversations with yourself, trying to talk yourself into one identification versus another? Well, mine went something like this:

Me: “It must be another pigeon. Has to be.”
Myself: “But it’s so white, and it looks a little bigger than the other Rock Doves across the street.”
Me: “Nah, it’s just all puffed up, showing off, you know.”
I: “What is it doing all by itself, then?”
Me: “Well, it’s too small to be a hawk if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Myself: “You’ve got your camera with you, zoom in on it.”
Me: “I’d have to get it out of my backpack, and out of the case….Oh, here comes the bus anyway.”
I: “I guess we’ll never know now….”

I boarded the bus, and once inside still looked longingly out the window at the mystery bird that surely must be a Rock Dove with an inflated ego. Then my thoughts were interrupted…..

Bus Driver to another passenger: “Do you need to use the lift?”
Me: “Well, if we’re going to be here another three minutes boarding this person, I might as well train my camera on that silly bird….”
SFX: Unpacking camera, turning it on, zooming in….click, click, click.

I then reviewed the images, zooming in on the white blob in the middle of the picture….

Me: “What the….No way!....Are you kidding me?!

I could hardly believe what I was seeing, but it soon became undeniably obvious that the “pigeon” was an adult Peregrine Falcon.

Me (audibly, to the other passengers as I clicked away): “That’s a falcon on top of that light pole out there.”
Bus passengers in reply: Ok, pretty much crickets chirping….

Peregrine falcons are not exceptionally rare in Tucson, so seeing one is not necessarily cause for celebration all by itself, but this incident taught me something about myself: I shouldn’t dismiss the careful observations of Me, and I should listen to Myself more when he pesters Me to look a little more closely, verify my suspicions, and satisfy My curiosity. Trust your own instincts, too. It could pay off with a sweet surprise!

Tragedy in Tucson

I feel somewhat obligated to comment on the recent mass shooting incident in Tucson being that I am a current resident, and have briefly met Representative Giffords. My local friends and I are shocked, saddened, and outraged by this event, but I’ll stick largely with the facts here.

First, let us not minimize the fact that six people have already perished. Among them were a federal judge, John M. Roll, and a nine-year-old girl, Christina-Taylor Green. Congresswoman Giffords was staging one of her routine “Congress on Your Corner” events at a local strip mall, and Judge Roll had merely swung by on his way home to pay his friend a brief visit. The young girl, in irony of all ironies, had gained fame as one of the Faces of Hope, featured in the book of that title about babies born on September 11, 2001.

Additional fatalities included Giffords’ Constituent Services Director, Gabe Zimmerman, retirees Dorwan Stoddard, Dorthy Murray, and Phyllis Schneck. Twenty individuals in all were wounded. The good news is that four out of the five people on the critical list last night have now been upgraded to “serious.”

Gabrielle Giffords herself remains in critical condition, but a Sunday morning press conference held by the doctors and surgeons who are treating her was filled with optimism. Miraculously, her injuries involved only one hemisphere of her brain. Before and after surgery she was able to respond to simple commands (squeeze my hand, show two fingers, etc), which considering the gravity of her condition is nothing short of amazing.

I was giving a presentation at the Medical Entomology Today conference here in Tucson when this calamity happened. My topic was “Social Media and Self-Diagnosis: How the Internet has Made Medical Entomology Better and Worse.” While I was describing how electronic technologies are changing how the public gets information, members of my audience were receiving text messages about the tragedy. Politely, no one interrupted my talk.

When I was informed of the event my heart was in my throat. I had the honor and pleasure of meeting Representative Giffords when she attended the “Butterfly Affaire” fundraiser at the Tucson Botanical Gardens back in October. She was her usual smiling self, and I helped her find butterflies which she eagerly shared with her family and other members of her entourage. This woman goes out of her way to find opportunities to mingle with her constituents, and never gives the impression that anyone is beneath her. She could care less about your political affiliation, but cares deeply about your physical (read healthcare) and economic well-being.

I’m not going to devote one word to the gunman, you can find that out for yourself if you wish.

What continues to disturb me is the direction our American society is taking. One could make the argument that we are a devolving species, going backwards in our cultural evolution at the least. We are literally our own worst enemies, filling the roles of competitors, parasites, and predators once occupied by other organisms during the course of our divergence from the rest of the great apes. Clearly, we have the capacity to hold in check our destructive instincts and tendencies and behave instead in an altruistic manner that ultimately benefits us as individuals. We are increasingly choosing not to do that. We no longer have patience. We must have things “our” way, right now.

We also have more weapons at our disposal for forcing others to comply with our whims, or to destroy our (perceived) adversaries. We need to scale down our definition of “weapons of mass destruction.” Obviously, an automatic handgun qualifies.

There was a blood drive today at the two Red Cross donation centers, in honor of the fallen from yesterday’s tragedy. I didn’t go, figuring the facilities would be swamped (and buses run infrequently on Sundays, affecting my ability to get to and from the nearest location). I am overdue for donating, though, and will likely do so later in the coming week. It is a nice, tangible gesture to affirm life in general. Self-sacrifice, whether it takes the form of sharing one’s blood voluntarily, parting with money for a good cause, or some other act, is just the remedy for what ails us as a society so self-obsessed. Find a way to sacrifice, and do it regularly. Watch the positive chain reaction.

WOW Arizona and The Oasis B and B

Back on October 3, I was invited to help lead a nature walk at the Oasis Bed & Breakfast (also known as "WOW Arizona" for Wild Outdoor World). This little gem is located in unincorporated Tucson, Arizona, just east and north of Oro Valley. Christopher J. (C J) Vincent and MaryEllen Troy Landen run this establishment, a true haven for Sonoran Desert wildlife.

The Oasis manages to cater to a wide variety of clientele, from mountain bikers to amateur naturalists. The grounds are a virtual Eden and the hosts know every resident plant and animal. The water and flowers (mostly native, some ornamental) attract an enormous diversity of wildlife from butterflies to birds and mammals, making it a great place to become familiar with Sonoran Desert flora and fauna while being as comfortable or adventurous as you would like to be.

C J picked me up after work on October 2, so I got to have dinner and stay the night, too. I like the cozy, "contemporary-rustic" feel of their home. The decor includes spectacular images of the wildlife seen and photographed by C J on the scenic grounds. I slept like a baby, and woke up to.....

More food! C J and MaryEllen are very conscious of the differing nutritional needs of their guests. I'm lactose intolerant and they had lactose-free milk. That never happens! The entrees are delicious, a great treat for a "meat and potatoes" guy like me, yet still "gourmet," just not pretentious. Pleasing folks with your menu is a tough task, but The Oasis does so perfectly. Outside the dining room the bird feeders were drawing a variety of fine feathered friends, like this Curve-billed Thrasher.

A little searching revealed one of their resident rattlesnakes, Cartman. He’s quite a heroic specimen of a Western Diamondback. Most of the organisms on the premises are not nearly as dangerous as this, but I like the fact that C J and MaryEllen welcome all forms of life, not just the cute, cuddly, and charismatic (though I personally find rattlesnakes to be quite charismatic in their own right).

C J recently acquired non-profit status for WOW Arizona, so it is now a certified environmental education organization. They hosted a class from Pima Community College a week before our October nature walk, and C J was still raving about the transformation of the students from urbanites a bit intimidated by the wild desert to fascinated people anxious to learn more.

I heartily recommend The Oasis B & B to anyone visiting southern Arizona who wants to avoid crowded parks, see wildlife up close, and enjoy captivating conversations with the proprietors over a great meal. You can get an online introduction at the WOW Arizona website and blog, and follow C J’s posts on Facebook, too. Check it out!

Butterfly Time (Part 2)

This post takes up where Part 1, on my sister blog ”Bug Eric” leaves off. The seventh annual “Butterfly Magic” kicked off with the suave and swanky “Butterfly Affaire” fundraiser on Sunday night, October 10. Music, fine food and beverages were the order of the evening, but at least a few folks ventured into the hot and humid greenhouse in their gowns and suits (though most were dressed a little above “business casual”).

The butterflies had mostly settled down to roost for the night, making them difficult to spot. The lights were on in the tropical greenhouse, but insects are not easily fooled by the artificial extension of natural day length. Consequently, the hit of the night was a group of recently-emerged African Moon Moths, Argema mimosa.

These large, showy insects are very cooperative, sitting idly in the places we had put them earlier in the day. The moths live only two or three days, even in the wild. They do not feed, or even have functional mouthparts, living instead off the stored fat reserves they built up in the caterpillar stage. Females wait patiently for males to fly to them, attracting the opposite gender with a pheromone (like a perfume) that the males can follow from a mile or more away.

The males use their feathery antennae like satellite dishes, picking up the fragrant signals of a female and homing in on her. She may not even venture off of her cocoon, at least not in our captive setting where we usually take cocoon and moth out to the greenhouse and pin the cocoon perch to a tree trunk.

Longwing butterflies in the genus Heliconius are at the other end of the longevity spectrum. While most butterflies can last two or three weeks, maybe a month on flower nectar, longwings can go up to six months because they can also eat pollen. There is no end to the variability in color and pattern, even within one species of Heliconius. Some mimic milkweed butterflies that are toxic to some predators. All are neotropical in their distribution (that means they are native to Mexico, Central and South America). Colorful and seemingly fragile, they fly slowly, perching frequently. This Heliconius erato displays a typical pattern for its species.

Come evening, or during overcast days, the longwings seldom take flight, instead hanging from the underside of foliage, or perching on leaves like this Heliconius doris.

As diminutive as the longwings are, the swallowtails are large and powerful. This Magnificent Swallowtail, Papilio garamus, is the only specimen to emerge so far from the multiple chrysalids we have received in shipments. It ranges from central Mexico to Costa Rica.

A real success from the shipments were sulphur butterflies in the genus Catopsilia. They are commonly known as “immigrants,” which of course has been the source of many bad jokes among the staff and volunteers in the exhibit. Ironically, the “Orange Immigrant,” Catopsilia scylla, hails from northern Australia and neighboring islands of Indonesia, not from south of the U.S. border.

Wherever you call home, you might want to plan a trip to meet these wonderful insects while they are here in Tucson. Butterfly Magic runs through April 30, 2011, so reserve those tickets now.

Tucson Reptile and Amphibian Show 2010

Saturday, September 25, I had to choose among several nature-oriented events around the Tucson area. My selection was the annual Tucson Reptile and Amphibian Show at the Expo Center in South Tucson. While the overwhelming majority of participants were vendors of live reptiles, arachnids, and terraria and other products related to keeping pet “herps,” the educational exhibits were quite enthralling.

The Tucson Herpetological Society featured several live reptiles native to Arizona, including this Great Basin Rattlesnake, Crotalus oreganus lutosus.

I just looked up the scientific name for that serpent in the book Rattlesnakes of the United States & Canada, authored by Manny Rubio. I purchased that outstanding reference at the Reptile Show as well, and Manny was on hand all day signing copies.

The most impressive exhibits were furnished by the Phoenix Herpetological Society. This organization even runs a sanctuary for unwanted reptiles. I suspect that some of the more dangerous specimens were probably seizures in raids on drug-smuggling rings since trafficking in narcotics and exotic pets often go hand-in-hand. Macho dealers often want pets symbolic of their toughness, and/or dangerous pets to guard their stashes of illegal substances, cash and weapons. In any event, the animals the PHS brought to Tucson were truly amazing.

I am not readily intimidated by reptiles, but one specimen had me a little nervous and totally in awe. It was a Reticulated Python, Python reticulatus, raised from a hatchling by the gentleman standing next to it at the exhibit. The snake is now seventeen years old, just shy of 19 feet in length, and weighing in at 260 pounds. I estimate the snake’s head was at least as large as my size 7 ½ shoe. The snake’s name was “Tiny.” No, I’m kidding!

The python was in a compartment on a long trailer that included many other snakes and lizards. Among them was this gorgeous albino Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, Crotalus atrox.
Aberrations like this don’t usually survive long in the wild, but they make excellent ambassadors for their species in an educational venue.

Most of the animals in the show were in plain enclosures that facilitate easy cleaning and optimal viewing by the public (no place for the reptile to hide). This did not make for the best photo ops, but I was happy to get some of the results I did given the obvious “in captivity” look, smudges on the glass from countless children’s noses and hands, and often poor lighting. Still, a King Cobra, Ophiophagus Hannah, has an overwhelming presence in any setting.

A couple of small crocodilians and an enormous Alligator Snapping Turtle complemented the snakes, but it was the vipers that I found most amazing. Take this Mangshan Pit Viper, Trimeresurus mangshanensis, for example. Found only on Mt. Mang in the Hunan Province of China, it is literally “something you don’t see every day.”

Likewise, this bright yellow example of an Eyelash Viper, Bothriechis schlegelii, is best encountered behind glass in a nicely-landscaped terrarium, as opposed to wrapped around a branch at eye-level along a jungle trail in Central or South America.

There are more images of other snakes over at my Flickr photostream. I’d like to thank my friend Leigh Anne DelRay for reminding me of the show to begin with, and sharing the experience with me last Saturday. I encourage everyone to visit their own local reptile show and take a friend or young person with them. It can make a lasting impression to come face-to-face with native and exotic wildlife at such events.

Update.

Once again I find myself apologizing for the relatively sporadic nature of my posts here lately. No excuses, really, though I have been working rather random hours at the Tucson Botanical Gardens, and consequently eating randomly, sleeping randomly, and writing randomly. Maybe I need to take a class on time management.

I also just concluded a project in which I reviewed chapters for a forthcoming self-published book on the natural history of Virginia Beach, Virginia, by Scott Bastian. He has been a delight to work with, and he will be turning out a pretty unique book that has a wealth of information stretching far beyond the locality of Virginia Beach. You'll hear more about this once it is off the presses.

A relative lack of rain this year in Arizona (except for the area immediately adjacent to the Mexican border) has meant that many insects have been lacking, or at least less numerous, than usual. Perhaps because the Tucson Botanical Gardens is heavily watered, I have found a surprising diversity of things there, and expect the trend to continue through October.

Best wishes to my readers for a fruitful fall of exploring, image-taking, and enjoyment of autumn colors.

Brandi Fenton Memorial Park

Brandi Fenton Memorial Park is a multi-use holding of the Pima County Natural Resources, Parks & Recreation agency. I paid a visit there on June 15, 2010 and found it to be much more than I had anticipated. At a little shy of 57 acres, it is also far larger in size than I imagined.

The park’s namesake was a bright and cheerful 13-year old who died tragically in a car accident in 2003. The centerpiece of the park reflects in its landscape and architecture the joys of this vibrant teenager: butterflies, art, and a caring . A butterfly garden, fountain, several sculptures, and inlaid artwork make for a very colorful and inspirational community resource.

There is an equal abundance of active recreation opportunities to complement the passive, relaxing, and introspective areas. A dog park, basketball courts, fitness stations, playground, and walking paths afford exercise for people and pooches; and there are even equestrian facilities.

Additionally, there are many interpretive signs explaining the historical Binghampton district where this park is located. Original buildings remain on the property and serve a variety of public functions, including a visitor center. A farming community dating back to 1875, Binghampton is on the National Historic Register as well. Demonstration gardens of crops grown in that era are planned for the park in the future.

Located at the intersection of Alvernon Way, Dodge Boulevard, and River Road just blocks north of the city of Tucson, Brandi Fenton Memorial Park is a great place to explore and exercise your “inner child” (or your real son or daughter if you have a family). I look forward to seeing how the park matures (it opened in 2005) in the coming years.

News Flash

I will be starting a new, part-time job shortly at the Tucson Botanical Gardens. My title will be "Assistant Butterfly Curator" for the Butterfly Magic exhibit of live butterflies that runs from October through April. Elizabeth Willott, Curator of Butterflies, will be my supervisor there. I am very much looking forward to learning how to better train and manage volunteers, which will account for most of my duties.

I am still actively seeking full-time work online, in media, and museums, but am very grateful to TBG for extending me this offer. I will still have time to continue freelance work as well.

Bloom Night

Tohono Chul Park in northwest Tucson held its nineteenth (19th!) annual “Bloom Night” this past Friday, July 16, 2010. The event is done on short notice as park personnel evaluate the potential for Night-blooming Cereus flowers to be at their peak. I subscribed to the park’s Facebook status, so was alerted on Friday that the stage was set for that night.

Night-blooming Cereus, also known as “Queen-of-the-Night,” “reina-de-la-noche,” and “deer-horn cactus is known scientifically as Peniocereus greggii (formerly Cereus greggii). The plant is easily overlooked entirely in the daytime, as the slender stems, with four or five ribs, appear to be lifeless, propped against a tree or shrub under which the cactus grew. The Night-blooming Cereus can reach to eight feet in height, with the help of its “nurse” tree, but is usually substantially shorter. The majority of those I saw Friday night were roughly two to three feet tall.

Once each year in June or July the plant puts forth shockingly beautiful blooms under the cover of darkness. Each flower is a “one night only” affair, hoping that a sphinx moth will find it and pollinate it. The flower enhances its chances of this by emitting a fragrance that carries for up to one hundred feet. Moth olfactory senses must be vastly more acute than our human noses. Unless I literally stick my schnoz into the flower I get nothing.

Tohono Chul is a private park, so while they do stay open late (6:30 PM – midnight) for this one night, they also charge you for your visit. At only five dollars it is a bargain in many ways (for one thing, the usual daytime admission is $7). The park is a combination of natural desert and planted examples of plants from Arizona, Mexico, and elsewhere. There is a “tea house,” gift shop, and more on its 49 acres.

It is a pity that there are not more after dark programs here and at other parks around the Tucson area. It is at night that one encounters many of the more interesting flora and fauna. Ironically, I found Tohono Chul’s example of Giant Sprawling Morning Glory, Ipomoea longifolia, to be even more spectacular than the star of the show. Judge for yourself (below).

The park obviously waters their plants considerably more than occurs naturally, as you won’t see an enormous Sacred Datura (Western Jimsonweed), Datura wrightii, like this anywhere in the desert, at least in my experience.

The animals in the desert night can be equally spectacular. Field crickets (genus Gryllus) add an auditory accompaniment to any evening stroll.

They have to be careful they don’t blunder anywhere near a tarantula burrow, though, or get run down by one of the agile wolf spiders (family Lycosidae) that are on the prowl.

Most of the trails in the park are marked on Bloom Night with luminaries (candles inside paper bags), but since I had both a headlamp and a flashlight, I took the liberty of exploring some of the paths that remained in the dark. I was rewarded with arguably my most exciting find of the night: a small Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, Crotalus atrox, coiled along the edge of the path. It remained perfectly still the entire time I snapped images and introduced it to other curious visitors.

That is perhaps what I enjoy most about events like this: the opportunity to share my own discoveries with others, and give them a little knowledge, too, providing I know something about the animal or plant at hand. I must have spent fifteen minutes showing a steady parade of other visitors this female funnel-web weaving wolf spider (Sosippus californicus) toting her egg case across her silken sheet. Some folks were disappointed that it was not a Night-blooming Cereus flower I was taking pictures of, but most were quite curious and took their own images with phones or point-and-shoots. I love that.

One final note, you never know who you are going to meet at these shindigs. I saw Karen Wright for the first time in years. She’s the wonderful photographer who took the portraits of me that adorn my blogs and the back of the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America. I also met a wonderful young couple who graciously offered me a ride home after the show. Thank you, Kerrah and Tim, for your company and generosity.

In Praise of Shade

The city of Tucson, Arizona could use many things, like mid-level jobs to fill that void between rocket science and “Do you want fries with that?” Another crying need for people and wildlife alike is a Shade Initiative. During the searing heat of late spring and summer, there is nary a place to escape to. Sunscreen only does so much for Homo sapiens, and other animals take refuge where they can find it.

Many desert animals have simply become nocturnal, hiding in burrows or crevices in rocks by day. Even creatures that don’t actively dig will use the abandoned burrows of animals that do. Rattlesnakes will hole up in an old ground squirrel tunnel. Sometimes occupant and interloper will grudgingly share space, such as the many mammals, birds, other reptiles, and invertebrates that are frequently found cozying up to desert tortoises in their dens.

My own experience has showed that even insects will seek respite from the midday heat. One recent excursion to an artificial riparian area in Fort Lowell Park revealed an amazing spectrum of sheltering insects among the dense stands of cattails along the edge of the lower pond. Even butterflies like the Leda Ministreak, Great Purple Hairstreak, Empress Leilia, and Fiery Skipper work their way into the cool heart of the emergent vegetation.

Other insects present include an abundance of bees, wasps, and flies. You have to look closely. The wasps and bees are often tiny. On this day, June 21, 2010, I tallied wasps in the families Bethylidae, Chalcididae, Braconidae, Ichneumonidae, and Sphecidae. Sweat bees, especially males in the genus Lasioglossum (family Halictidae) were also common.

In the past I have observed fair numbers of “tarantula hawk” wasps, and even cicada killers in the ranks of roosting Hymenoptera.

The habit of seeking midday shelter does not escape the predators of these insects. Robber flies (family Asilidae) weave their way in and out of the cattails and pounce on unsuspecting prey of all kinds. Meanwhile, jumping spiders prowl each leaf and lynx spiders (Oxyopidae) lie in ambush to catch unsuspecting flies and other insects.

As I leave the park, I try and stay in the shade, but the mesquite, cottonwood, and ornamental pecan and eucalyptus trees are planted sparsely in the landscaped lawns. Once out of the park altogether, shade is even harder to find. There is no mandate to plant shade trees here, though Tucson Clean and Beautiful is perhaps slowly changing that through its ”Trees for Tucson” and Home Shade Tree programs.

The hot sidewalk, where there is a sidewalk, nearly melts the soles of my shoes. I grow hot and thirsty quickly. I pass by a sign in the flowerbeds warning not to drink the “reclaimed” water from the drip irrigation system. Fine, but then give me a public drinking fountain every few blocks. The bus stop is one of the few that do offer meager shelter. Most have no shelters, or the shelters are oriented such that “shelter” is rendered meaningless. I make a note to myself to consider leaving Tucson and relocating to a place with both shade and water.

Sweetwater Wetlands

One of the most reliable places in Tucson to find wildlife is Sweetwater Wetlands. Indeed, it is a very popular spot for “birders,” and a destination for countless school groups who come to learn about the ecology of wetlands in an otherwise very arid environment.

Besides being a Mecca for birds, mammals, reptiles and insects, Sweetwater Wetlands is an integral part of the nearby sewage treatment facility. Effluent from the traditional treatment facility is channeled into a series of ponds where the treated water then percolates back into the underlying aquifer. This natural filtration further cleanses the water and it is then “reclaimed” when it is withdrawn again for use in irrigation, mostly of golf courses and the landscaping of business parks.

I have to admit I am ambivalent about the extensive signage warning not to drink the reclaimed water (presumably aimed at our homeless population) while there is nary a public drinking fountain to be found in the city of Tucson. “Irony” does not do justice to this situation. Maybe I just got spoiled growing up in Portland, Oregon where there is a public fountain on nearly every corner downtown.

Back to the wetlands. There is plenty of interpretive signage along the several trails that course between the ponds; and also at the wildlife viewing areas that take the form of small peninsulas extending into some of the ponds. Benches offer places to rest, drink, and snack as well as wait for birds to come to you. An average visit may yield such birds as the Common Moorhen, or a blue-billed male Ruddy Duck.

Lizards, mostly Desert Spiny lizards and whiptails, scatter in every direction at your approach, one seemingly every couple of feet. There are Greater Roadrunners in the area, but they seem to hardly make a dent in the herp populations. One can only wish for some predator to eat the non-native Bullfrogs that have come to call this place home. You can hear the “Jug-a-rum” call of the males at nearly any time of day.

I come here for insects and spiders, too, of course, and am rarely disappointed. Though this year has been sparse for most insects, I can always count on seeing Blue-eyed Darners, Rhionaeschna multicolor, like the female above that I found on my last visit. Also present in abundance are the Blue Dasher, Pachydiplax longipennis, and the Mexican Amberwing, Perithemis intense. I have also seen the Flame Skimmer, Libellula saturata, and a Roseate Skimmer, Orthemis ferruginea, this year.

The wetlands are torched nearly every year, a prescribed burn charring some parts of the area annually. It does not seem to adversely impact the animals, and in fact the scorching of the willows and cottonwoods sometimes makes them more of an attraction to insects and nesting and feeding birds. I recently found a giant crab spider (genus Olios) under a burnt strip of bark on a willow.

Do make a point of visiting this little gem the next time you are in Tucson. It is especially spectacular during waterfowl migrations, but any time of year is likely to reward you with a great “urban nature” experience.

Agua Caliente

One of my favorite parks in the greater Tucson area of Arizona is Roy P. Drachman Agua Caliente Regional Park, located at 12325 E. Roger Road. It is a Pima County park with a unique history and diverse, surprising habitats full of wildlife.

The park is not accessible by public transportation, but I’ve been fortunate enough to visit on several occasions, courtesy of friends who also enjoy the place. The Tucson chapter of the National Audubon Society operates a small nature store there, and there is a visitor center with an art gallery, too. The Rose Cottage serves as a classroom for nature programs and environmental education. Always open are the restrooms and outdoor picnic tables (with grills) on a large lawn studded with palm and eucalyptus trees.

The main feature of the park is a series of three ponds, linked by an artificial stream fed by a natural warm spring. The scarcity of permanent water elsewhere has made this a Mecca for people, and the human history of the park goes back over 5,000 years, including a Hohokam village, circa 1150 AD, that extended into the property now included in the park. A cattle ranch and orchard sprung up around the spring in 1875. Some historical buildings have been preserved and interpreted in the park, including a bunkhouse from the 1920s, when various owners ran ranches and resort spas at the site, touting the health benefits of the mineral-rich waters. The 101 acre park as it is known today opened in January, 1985, after a donation of $200,000 by local businessman Roy P. Drachman allowed for purchase of the property by the County.

Wildlife benefits from protection here, too, and birdwatchers flock to see such winged wonders as the green heron (shown above) and fledgling great horned owls.

A network of well-groomed trails meanders through a mesquite bosque and other Sonoran Desert habitats. There are interpretive signs and benches along several stretches of the trails, and all the paths are relatively short and easily walked.

Be on the lookout for herps and mammals underfoot. Reptiles such as this horned lizard (Phrynosoma sp.) are quite cryptic, and hard to spot until they move. Stand quietly along the shore of the main pond and you might be surprised by a Botta’s Pocket Gopher, Thomomys bottae, poking its head above ground.

The emergent vegetation in the ponds themselves provides perches for a wide variety of damselflies, and dragonflies like the Red Saddlebags, Tramea onusta, shown at the bottom of this page.

The park’s official website is here, and an outstanding photographic portrait of the park is presented here by Dan Conway. I highly recommend making a point of seeing the place for yourself, though, next time you are in Tucson.

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.