Stormy Weather

I was not prepared for what this spring has brought in terms of weather. Last year we were spoiled by essentially having no winter. This year is the winter that will not leave. Compounding the unseasonably cold temperatures and blustery winds is the fact that we are still getting precious little precipitation here in Colorado Springs. While the drought continues, it is the impact on my psyche that has been hardest to deal with.

You would think that I, having spent the first twenty-seven years of my life in Portland, Oregon, where seeing the sun is a near miraculous event, that I would be hardened to overcast, dreary days. Apparently not. Indeed, I have most recently spent a decade in climates of “extreme sun” counting Tucson, Arizona and here on the Front Range in Colorado. I think I have been trying to make up for those 27 years of drizzle.

It occurred to me while riding the bus on a particularly ugly day in Cincinnati what I find intolerable about “gray” days: The sky has no contour. You look up and it is like you are under a great silver dome. It feels like you are still indoors. This, to me, is the overriding feature that must be at the root of SAD (“Seasonal Affective Disorder”).

At least here in Colorado you can’t usually say the clouds themselves are depressing. Eerie, yes, and sometimes menacing, but not depressing. This is the only place I’ve been where the clouds remind me of being in a coffee mug and God is stirring cream into it. Short of a tornado, this is the closest one can come to the feeling that the sky really is falling.

Lately, however, the days have been far too reminiscent of Oregon. The worst is when the mountains disappear. The foothills and Pikes Peak are near constants in the landscape here, and when you cannot see them it becomes both disorienting and claustrophobic. The world literally seems to be closing in around you.

Lastly, the duration of cold, and periodic light snow, has taken its toll on me mentally. I guess you would call it “cabin fever,” but whatever the name it robs your mood of the highs that normally come at this time of year with blooming flowers, singing birds, the hum of bees. I find myself disturbingly unmotivated, disinterested, and even angry when I have no reason to be.

Weather cannot alone be blamed for our own personal miseries (excepting tornados, hurricanes, and floods I suppose), but no longer will I readily dismiss anyone who says that rainy days and gray skies get them down. We all have a hard time with things we cannot control. Rising above the austerity of climate at this time of year is challenging to be sure.

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.

Catalina State Park

My friend Margarethe Brummermann was kind enough to invite me to join her for a hike in Catalina State Park last Tuesday, March 30. I had never visited this park in spring before, and this year is so spectacular that I couldn’t pass up the chance to see what the landscape looked like.

Catalina State Park actually lies within the Coronado National Forest, and is known for the nearly 5,000 saguaro cacti within its boundaries. Indeed, there are some truly magnificent specimens of this giant to be found there.

The park was slated to become a housing development in the early 1970s, known as “Rancho Romero.” However, a petition to re-zone the land for this purpose met with stiff public resistance. State Representative Charles King of Tucson then requested a feasibility study to assess the options for protecting the scenic and historical area. Though it was found the acreage met the criteria for a state park, a vote by the Arizona Parks Board on December 10, 1973 was against that idea.

Subsequent grassroots efforts and coalitions of non-profit groups ultimately led to King submitting House Bill 2280 to the 1974 session of the state legislature. It passed, and was signed into law by then-Governor Jack Williams on May 1, 1974.

The park’s master plan was crafted by many players, including students at the University of Arizona. It was approved on December 9, 1977. Still, the park’s current status was not fully achieved until April 22, 1991 when the last land exchanges became final.

Today, park visitors can enjoy all manner of passive recreation, from hiking to horseback riding, camping and picnicking. A day at the park costs $7 per vehicle, or $3 for an individual on foot or bicycle. Thankfully, despite closure of most state parks in Arizona due to a government budget crisis, Catalina State Park remains open, at least for now.

What can you expect to see in the park, besides saguaros? Well, how about some of the more than 150 species of birds that have been seen there? I can also attest to lizards, butterflies, and a seemingly endless variety of wildflowers that call the place home. You can see a few of them over at my Flickr photostream.

Thanks again to Margarethe for the great company, and sharing her own knowledge of flora and fauna.

Sonoran Desert Spring

John Alcock’s book by that name is a truly delightful literary introduction to this season in southern Arizona. This particular year is made even more dramatic, however, by the atypically regular series of rains we have had over the last three months or so. The extra precipitation has resulted in a truly lush and colorful landscape.

A trip to the Sabino Canyon Recreation Area on March 19, and to Esperero Canyon on March 27 revealed both creeks running full and fast. Both canyons are in the Santa Catalina Mountains just north of Tucson. The dam in Sabino Canyon was positively roaring with the cascading flow. Esperero Canyon is normally bone dry at this time of year, but the pools and riffles are a welcome sight there, too.

Elsewhere, the rain has soaked into the dusty soil and wildflowers have sprouted in an abundance not seen for decades in some locations. I usually lament missing the show, since the legendary floral exhibitions are usually a fair car ride away and I don’t drive. Imagine my delight in finding a wonderland only a short walk west from downtown Tucson.

Sentinel Peak Park is a city park that includes a butte of that name (known as “A” Mountain to locals, owing to an enormous concrete “A” on its eastern slope, painted in the red, white and blue colors of the University of Arizona), but the area immediately behind (west of) that promontory offers a more spectacular view right now. I discovered that a trail across the “saddle” between two other buttes took me through a glorious field of poppies, lupine, and other wildflowers.

Here is a true “magic carpet” of fleeting duration, transporting one to a fantasyland of natural wonder. Where one would normally find only the gray-green of mesquites and cacti, here now are great swaths of yellow-orange, punctuated by spears of violet-blue lupines and white lyreleaf jewelflowers.

The floral fireworks may be just beginning. I see that the pink (and vermillion) globemallows have just begun to bloom, and soon creosote bush will be coming on strong, along with the palo verde trees.

I feel truly privileged to be a spectator of the season, especially this year. One of the other hikers I met in the park said that friends of hers who had been living in Tucson for decades hadn’t seen anything like this since about 1983. Indeed, a show like this is as rare as a comet in these parts.

Spring Waits for No One

Tucson, Arizona has been experiencing much warmer-than-normal temperatures lately (it hit a record high of 91 F on February 23, 2009), and it seems to have triggered an early spring. I, for one, am not ready. Thankfully, my friend Cheryl Malone has loaned me her Canon PowerShot SD1000 (Elph), so I can at least share a few images of the desert landscape that is coming alive now.

The brilliant vermillion globe mallow flowers, Sphaeralcea sp., are among the more spectacular blooms right now, but they are ahead of the solitary bees that pollinate them. Honeybees are already at work, though, such as this one on a blossom of creosote bush, Larrea tridentata. Other flowers clamoring for attention include Gordon's bladderpod, Lesquerella gordoni, a lovely member of the mustard family, and desert marigold, Baileya multiradiata. This is in a residential, mid-town neighborhood. There are a couple of vacant lots, but colorful blossoms can sprout from a mere crack in the curb.

I took these images on March 5 and 6, 2009, but I am a very amateur photographer. Much better photographs of Tucson wildflowers can be found at the Firefly Forest website, along with good information about each species. Here's hoping that spring is fast approaching wherever you live.