Absolutely Arizona--Hummingbird Summer

 I am late this week and apologize. Monday I spent a good part of the day visiting with my longest term old friend. We go back beaucoup years or since I was 11 and she was 9 when we met and hit it off from the first. Oh, we had our spats as kids will but never gave each other up. We drifted off in different directions for a long time but then reconnected, perhaps thru Classmates. Anyway she and her hubby came by from their home farther north and we had a great gab fest. I know him too; he was a high  school classmate. They have been together for I think it is 55 years--how awesome is that?

Anyway, Hummingbirds!! Cochise County, where I have lived a total of about 28 years, is the hummingbird capital of the USA. More species are recorded here than anywhere else north of Mexico and Central/South America. They are a western hemisphere species or family and the most amazing little creatures. They are fearless and fierce, beautiful and amazing in the distances they travel with those tiny wings beating thousands of times a minute.

Back when I lived in Whetstone, a communnity about 25 miles south and slightly east of my present home, I began to feed them my first summer there which was 1984. It took a few years before I began to gather large groups of them and slowly came to know the different ones and be able to identify the regular visitors and a few of the rarer ones.

The most prolific among my guests were the Black Chins. In flat light they are gray with black heads for the males and just gray for the females. But in sunlight the males show a purple on their heads and gorget (neck feathers or 'bib') and both have a pale or near white front. 

The next most common is the Rufous, the only all red hummingbird I know of. The males have a deep red back that is irridescent in the sun, red wings and a lighter red underneath as well as a red head and gorget or throat patch. The females again are mostly gray with a slight redish cast. They are the most aggressive and possessive ones. A male will 'stake out' a feeder and do his best to run all interlopers off.

You seldom see them before mid to late summer because they fly north by a different route--some as far as Alaska. Then they begin a gradual trek south when the first hints of  'winter' (what they call termination dust in AK or the first little skiff of white on the mountains just below glacier level) and end up here between mid August and Labor Day. 

Other types may come and go and pop up suddenly--the White Eared,  Blue Throated, Anna's, Allen's  and Caliope--the smallest one, barely larger than  bumble bee! I cataloged those and a few more a time or two at Whetstone. The Allen's are similar to the Rufous but green backed with deep red in tail and gorget. Males and females of both show the white tipped tail feathers when they fan the tail out as in the aggressive mode. 

I coined the term "Hummingbird Summer" at least two decades ago. I was used to a few Black Chins that stayed all season,  usually about late March until near Thanksgiving. The season seemed to get longer over the years I lived there, from 1984 to 2008, and once or twice I think one Black Chin may have stayed through the winter as I would see him now and then. Either that or he had found shelter like up in Miller Canyon on the Huachucas and made a scouting trip on a warm day. 

Anyway, sometime in August the Rufous and Allens would suddenly show up and the air show was on with squads of them doing all sorts of aerobatics from dawn to dusk, sometimes calling a short truce so several could perch on a feeder at once and tank up. Then by mid September they would begin to slip away until it was back to  just the half dozen or so Black Chin regulars. 

They had a peculair trait which I am waiting to see/hear this year--maybe. They will fill up, perch somewhere and go into a suspended state, almost catatonic or hypnotized, for up to 24 hours, then fill up again and take off. They fly clear across the Gulf of Mexico in some cases or vast distances down across the Sonora and Chihuahua deserts where food and water are very scarce. How they manage I can hardly imagine but they do. And before this they would often perch and 'sing' this odd little slightly musical ratchety 'tune' that I only heard at that time. I said they were going over the route map in their minds or telling themselves, "I think I can, I thnk I can." I missed that for the years I was in NM and Colorado and there were not nearly as many around. There were quite a few in the Silver City, NM area but nothing like here. So I hope to hear some 'going south' songs come about October. We'll see. 

For now I watch the fun and enjoy the busyness of Hummingbird Summer. I'd better put sugar on my shpping list for tomorrow as I will be making lots of 'hummingbird soup' for awhile! I do eight cups of water and two of sugar brought to a strong boil for each batch and fill 2-3 feeders with that mix. Normally they last a week--I empty then if they are not and clean and refill but for a bit it may be every 2-3 days. It's been dry so not many flowers for them to visit. They need the food and have to contend with the bees for it, who are also hungry--or maybe lazy.  For sure, Hummingbird Summer is absolutely Arizona to me since I have not observed the phenomenon anywhere else.  

All photos mine from Whetstone days. 

Anna's female? 

resting Black Chin

Anna's and Black Chin

Annas and Rufous

Absolutely Arizona--Verde Canyon Scenic Railroad

Most of my long time readers know I am a total train buff. That bit of track from Drake, on the old ATSF (now BNSF) mainline across northern Arizona down to Clarkdale is very special to me. Charlie and I both grew our real rail fan outlook watching it. Under many circumstances, that line would have been abandoned as many odd spur lines and service to semi-rural regions have been in the modern merger days. These days it's gotta make a lot of bucks to stay active. But this one was saved. An investor who is also a big rail fan and has acquired a number of small railroads decided he could make it work and work it does. 

This all happened while I was away from the area from 1969 until I finally made a visit back in 2003. I've been back several times since. I still have some of my photos of the old rail yard and depot back in then. circa mid 1960s. At that time the line served chiefly to haul limestone and dry cement to build the Glenn Canyon Dam and to bring a little other freight into the Verde. It was expensive to maintain so there were work crews in almost constantly to clear rock slides, fix bridges and keep the line in service. The area looks far different now and it is a nationally advertised tourist attraction. I do not think there was ever passenger service in the ATSF days but that is now the big winner.

In 2006 I attended a book fair in Prescott and along with a fellow author and her hubby came over to Clarkdale and took a ride! Although I had ridden horse/mule back up about to the SOB Canyon bridge and even pastured some aniamls in a bend between the track and the river,near there I had never been past the old slag dump by railpower.

In short I was mesmerized. The scenery almost defys description and I stood in awe of the engineering feat required to hang a standard gauge track along the sides of a rugged and often narrow canyon--all done in the late 1800s by man and mule power and a few very small primitive machines. That it is safe for a slow speed and not super heavy train today is miraculous but it is. The owners certainly keep a skilled crew to take care of it.

The route winds up under the eastern edge of the craggy white hills that provide limestone for cement even to this day. Then it soon enters the Verde River Box, a narrow basalt walled gorge that carries the river, still a constant flowing stream above ground, a rarity in these dry times. Gradually the track moves past dusty white to tan and then into the beautiful reds for which central Arizona is known, the same colors you could see around Sedona. Sycamore Canyon joins the Verde about 15 miles out. It is a spectacular canyon too, a Grand Canyon in micrcocosm, one could say. Now a wilderness area, it can only be viewd by horse/mule back or on foot but the route shows the mouth and a small bit of it. On you wind, at times looking right down into the river as little as 30 feet below or as much as 200 or so. There are twists and bends and finally a tunnel. Once through it you break out of the canyon and wind up at Perkinsville, where the train stops. That's about twelve miles south frm the Drake junction. This is a pleasant little vale or park like area, once part of a big area ranch with some old corrals and buildings still standing. 

Riders are not encouraged to get off although it is about a half hour stop. The locomotives uncouple from the front of the train and pass on a siding to hook up at the opposite end for the return trip. Is it tiresome to go back the same way? It wasn't to me. The difference in the view from midday to late afternoon sun is incredible. You will see things you missed going out and have another chance to see big hawks and even eagles as well as other animals along the way.  

There are enclosed regular pasenger cars where some visitors elect to stay but each one has its own open air viewing car with awnings to give some shade since it does get hot up in that closed-in canyon. I opted to spend about 95% of the time on the one for my car and loved every minute of it. I could not look enough to see it all!

I made another trip in the fall of 2017 when I had gone over from NM to Arizona for another high school reunion. I had to miss a day at the old high school in Jerome to make the trip but it was worth it. The first time my digital camera zonked on me and my SLR was slow and clumsy. The last trip I had a good digital and used the heck out of it! I think I downloaded some 150 photos. I erased a few but kept many and still enjoy looking them over. I could go back any time and still enjoy the journey.

The depot and gift shops are well worth an hour or two to see everything too and the well-kept outdoor space and yard are neat and comfy. It is still hard for me to mentally merge the old and the new but both are precious to me in different ways. At any rate, the Verde Canyon Scenic Railroad is Absolutely Arizona for sure and a splendid way to spend a day if you are in that area! I will include some photos here and perhaps do a second post just of pictures to share some more. BTW the  date on some of  the color photos is wrong; I had to swap batteries and did not have time to reset the calendar!

depot and yard 1965

depot and yard 2017

Just out of Clarkdale

Verde River Box

Red and green contrast-with blue

Old corral--Perrkinsville

Absolutely Arizona--The Grand Canyon

Mom and me, maybe 1947

  And what can possibly be more iconically Arizona than this incredible  site, clearly visible from space and one of the world's true wonders? I  have been there quite a few times but it never ceases to amaze and awe  me. I really do not remember the first time but it was probably in 1946- 47, maybe our first summer in Arizona. I'm judging by my size in the  photo, sadly black and white.I think right after WWII color film was  hard to come by because I find no color pictures in slide, negative or  print for a time, say about 1942 to1946/7. There are a number of Grand  Canyon shots at the same time as this one but they are all B&W.

The next visits were many and in the summer of 1951 when my parents ran a Forest Service fire lookout in the Kaibab Forest just outside the park on the North Rim. On low fire danger days we made many trips out to remote viewpoints accessible only by dirt tracks in the Jeep. At eight I was too young to fully appreciate what I sw but it was amazing. Sadly, no photos. I am sure Dad must have taken many but in the whole stash of zillions I have not found a one.

My next visit was in the summer of 1970, not long before I completed my education and moved to Sierra Vista to start my first real job at Fort Huachuca. Two roomies and I went in Carol's new blue Maverick and made it to both rims in one day. I took photos but sadly they are all on the dead harddrive and the negatives and prints are long gone. I stil have hopes to regain them someday. 

I know I meant to go again but it was many years before I did. Finally in 2015 I made a pact to join a friend, Mary Frances Clinton, to meet at Williams and take the train out to the South Rim. It was a fantastic trip and we enjoyed every minute of it. The train was fun with cheerful and knowledgable hosts in each car and some entertainers who sang, played an instrument and joked with us. The bus tour to several viewpoints was of course the highlight and this time I did get lots of photos!! They are all safely stored on more than one medium and I plan to keep them always. 

I may go again, once the current muddle is finally sorted out. Who knows? I also collect a few special pictures on line and save for my slide show screen saver or digital stash. I'll share a couple of favorites! At any rate, the Grand Canyon is truly grand in the best sense of that overused word and I cherish the memories of trips and the fact it is part of my heart's home state, absolutely Arizona.

 

These two spectcular shots are not mine but they are fabulous!! The top looks fake 

but I know it is a true view. 

Memoir Monday-- Absolutely Arizona

Absolutely Arizona--Watching Lightning

New Mexico has the slogan “New Mexico True” which they use widely. Arizona has a similar one, perhaps newer and not quite as established, “Absolutely Arizona.” KGUN 9 TV has a feature every week about some local place, edifice or tradition which they describe as Absolutely Arizona. I like the idea. I'll be using it in what I hope will be weekly posts for awhile on "Memoir Monday."

I call myself a ‘born again Arizona native’ since this state is the first place I can remember as home. My parents arrived with me in tow in February 1946 when I was about seventy days shy of three years old. If John Denver could do it for Colorado at a much great age, why not?  I plan to go back into my memories and highlight things which I feel are absolutely Arizona. One of those is watching lightning in our vivid summer thunderstorms.

I cannot recall doing this in Jerome but it was high on the hills and above much of the show. In addition I was very rarely out at night after dark before age ten. Thus my lightning watching days began about my twelfth summer after we had settled in Clarkdale. The town was near the western edge of the Verde Valley, snug against the Black Hills Range which included Woodchute, Mingus and more named mountains to the south.  Across the valley, the Mogollon Rim dominated the horizon with several named and known landmarks, the Sedona Red Rocks just not quite in sight. The view to the east was limited a bit by the rugged limestone hills that edged the river on the east side but the clouds rose far above that visual limit.

Summer nights usually found me outside, often sitting on one of the trucks in the alley. Sometimes the whole family was there, Mom and Dad and Alex, after he came along, but often it was just Charlie and me or even me by myself.  On clear nights I watched the stars and airplanes overhead but many summer nights were cloudy and that usually meant lightning. I’d watch fascinated until I had to go inside to bed. Sadly I did not have even a cheap small camera in those days to record the sights but they are as vivid in my memory as any photograph could render them.

The four summers I spent in Flagstaff ere not memorable for lightning. I loved the summers there and the nights too but it seemed many of the storms were in the afternoon and we were far above the valley views at some 7,000 feet. Then in 1970 I ended the summer down in Cochise County. I really had no place to sit out and certainly no one to enjoy it with but there were storms. Not for nothing are the mountains to the west side of that valley, the San Pedro, called Huachuca!

Huachuca is a slight corruption of a Sopaburi Indian word. Those native people dwelled in the area long ago, even before the Apache and other more recent groups arrived. They were leaving or dying out by the time the Spanish explorers arrived but it was the latter who picked up the word. It is often translated as place of the thunder, or more poetically, where the thunder walks. And walk it does, rolling and rumbling across the sky among the clouds behind the brilliant flashes of electric fire.

By the next summer I had relocated to Bisbee and then had friends to watch with, my future husband and two future step kids. We saw our share that summer and the next two, often driving out on High Lonesome Road, south and east down the canyon from Bisbee into the west edge of the Sulpher Springs Valley. Then by 1974, we were living in Colorado, a small then rural community called Falcon, about fifteen miles east of Colorado Springs. There were summer storms in that area too and lightning but not to the degree and spectacular profusion of Cochise County, AZ. However I did get a few photos and we did watch some.

The next six years were in the central valley of California—a horrible place to me since there simply were not any summer storms! How I missed that, almost as much as I loathed the pervasive fog that blanketed us all winter. Finally we got back to Arizona in the fall of 1983, settling briefly in Tucson. The monsoon was late that year and barely started when we arrived at the end of August but the fall was very wet--though not much in the way of thunderstorms.

By the summer on 1984 we had settled in Whetstone, an unincorporated village some three miles north of Huachuca City at the junction of highways 90 and 82. And that was a fine place to watch lightning!! Again there were mountains behind us, the Mustang Hills and just to the northwest, the Whetstones. The terrace in front of our house faced out across the valley giving us a grandstand seat as storms made their way up or down the valley, over the Mules, the Tombstone Hills and the Dragoons and on up past Benson. If there were storms more to the north or south, the flat roof of the adjacent garage was a great watching place too. Now I did take pictures, most with either my small 35mm Olympus or an SLR I acquired while in Tucson. Of course those were the old fashioned pre-digital film cameras so I had to take a roll, send it away and hope until the results came back. One of those revealed a surprise, a real gift, in the lightning limned figure I called The Spirit of Huachuca. But I got many other interesting shots too.

After Jim passed away in November 2003, I did not spend too many nights out any more. It was no fun to do so alone. In 2008 I moved over to the SW corner of New Mexico and the next spring, back to Colorado. Finally in 2011, brother Charlie and I moved down to Alamogordo, NM. That area had its share of summer storms and there was often some pretty good lightning displays but I was spoiled by then with digital cameras and too lackadaisical to dig out the old SLR with a timed exposure system and put it on a tripod, so no photos. And it was just not quite Arizona…maybe no one else would notice the difference but we did! 

Then last summer saw us finally head back to Arizona and once again settle in Cochise County although this time landing at the north end of the Whetstones. The first few nights we spent here after unloading the first big U-Haul truck near the end of August, we sat out back and watched lightning. That was when we knew we had come home. It was just as spectacular as we remembered as nature put on her light show just for us, or at least it felt that way.

This past Sunday evening, the 26^th, we watched the first real night storm of the season as it wandered among the hills and mountains to the north and east with blue flares seen through clouds and brighter bolts that came to the earth. I may try for some photos in time but for now it is enough just to watch and go back in memories to so many other summer evenings, each of them absolutely Arizona!

Lightning at Falcon

Whetstone Lightning

Cloud to cloud--bluer when distant

The Spirit of Huachuca

Sadly most of my other lightnng pix are on slides and I have not scanned them in yet! So for another time...

Colored in Shades of Gray

Colored in Shades of Gray

I was recently chided by a friend for failing to commit to an absolute black vs white stand on many big issues. No, I am not referring to race here, but the idea of unequivocal wrong vs right. Of course I feel very strongly about many issues and may throw support one way or another in various ways from letter writing to donations. But absolute?  No I cannot and do not go there. There really are a million shades of gray and I do not speak of the novel and movie with that title. Perhaps my big stumbling block lies in definitions.(i.e.)  Mine vs the dictionary's vs the new vernacular. It all depends on what "is" is...

I am not an attorney although did consider that career at one point and my late youngest brother did go to law school, pass the bar, and practice. We talked a lot about the lawyer mindset, the various levels of 'justice' and other related topics. There is a word in legalese that I find very important in all such matters. Specificity. Websters says, "The quality or state of being specific." In order to be enforceable and interpretable in a legal context, a crime, an act or a wrong must have specificity. Exactly what is it; what is included or excluded, what exceptions. This precise definition is critical.  Keep this in mind as you read on.

On to the 100% black or white. Let's take a first one. Genocide. Back to Webster's: the deliberate and systematic extermination of a national, racial, political or social group. Okay that is pretty dark, isn't it? Could there possibly be a situation where it could be excused, allowed, even condoned?  Certainly in the national and racial context, no. An unequivocal and absolute NO.

Although you will not find it in most of your searches, and the actual G word may not have been used, there are calls for an application. It has been said that the only real cure for racism is to do away with whiteness. Think about that a minute. End whiteness, erase it, do away with it. That could be considered genocide. Perhaps a less draconian means could be applied. Say make it mandatory that any child born after a specific date must have at least one genetically provable parent 'of color' or non-white. Work out the enforcement of that as you will. It could be conceivable and not quite genocide.

This is also complicated by the fact "white" is not strictly a race since it encompasses a huge range of ethnic and national identities. Take the Latino culture. Here in the American southwest and basically in many other areas, most who so identify are a mixture of white (Spanish) with various indigenous peoples. Some also include African heritage in the mixture. Should they be part of "whiteness" or not?  I cannot say. Maybe a '23 and Me' genetic test where the exact mixture is determined and over 50% puts the individual in one group or another. So am I 110% black when it comes to Genocide? Perhaps 99.9%,  yet in a few odd cases the jury may still be out.

Let's consider child molestation. That should be easy, 125% black, right? Whoa. Just a second . Where is the specificity? EXACTLY what act, failure to act or other behavior qualifies as this crime?  Molestation is fairly clear. Performing a sex act on a person under the age of consent as set by the jurisdiction, touching such a child in an "inappropriate" manner, forcing the child to perform, observe or participate in sexual or even sexually suggestive situations...  Got that. But what if a young man of say 19 is dating a girl of 17 (he is legal and she is not in  that area's jurisdiction) and they engage in heavy petting or even go 'all the way.' Then she breaks up with him or he finds a new love. In revenge she or her parents can legally charge him with illegal sexual behavior for she is still a "child" and he can carry the sex offender label for the rest of his life. Maybe even if he is only 18, turned 18 the day before.  Really black and white or not?  I won't even go into the precocious young ladies in mid to late teens who get a kick out of catching an "older" man's attention. He is spooky; she lies about her age and may even have an ID of some kind that says she is older. She dresses, looks and acts the part of an adult.  He does it. Boom. Statutory and deep doo. So, again I have to leave a thin sliver of not-black here as I point out that everyone who is charged may actually not be guilty.

Child abuse. This one is even fuzzier. Exactly what is properly labeled child abuse?  In somewhat descending order: regular beating or other physical assaults which would be considered an assault to another adult; giving drugs; wanton endangerment; failure to provide basic essentials such as shelter, food and clothing and also perhaps medical care, education and even an appropriate allowance or spending money equal to the average among the child's peers. Can you draw a positive line?

What if the parent is unable through no real fault of his or her own to afford meeting those needs? Is forcing a child to work in the family business or operation without pay other than maybe room and board? Is confining a child to its home, commonly called "grounding," to punish bad grades, disobedience, lying, or to curtail association with friends or playmates deemed unsuitable or delinquent? Is taking away a cell phone or tablet or other device for similar transgressions?

We do have the basic standard of what an average person, such as on a jury, would consider to be abuse or not but the legal specificity is rather thin. And again, a child who is upset with a parent for either sound or questionable reasons, can go to various authorities and scream 'abuse' and generally find itself believed so authorities are almost forced to at least investigate. The reality is guilty until proven innocent in most such cases.

I could go on but I hope I have provided a basis for my shades of gray philosophy. I also hope readers here will at least stop and think a few minutes about these things. Like I say, there are some very dark grays out there and some slightly dusty and dingy whites where the launderer did not apply enough bleach.  There are a million shades of gray but black and white are a bit more difficult to nail down.

Murder is wrong--black; adultery is wrong--black; theft from armed robbery to cat burglary is wrong--black. Does that mean there can never be extenuating circumstances? Does that mean anyone so accused must be automatically deemed guilty? Especially if they were perhaps captured on today's ubiquitous video? A minor change in the angle of a view can make a huge difference. We have all seen 'photoshopped' memes, jokes and revenge porn shots. Were they "real"? You tell me. Yes, video like still photos can be photshopped or shaded in any of a thousand ways, even staged or Hollywood style disreality Shades of gray, a hundred thousand of them so I cannot  and will not even pretend to play God or sit at a judgment seat and condemn anyone to jail, hell or wherever. If that is a character flaw, so be it.

A Life Socially Distanced?

Somehow this new normal, at least for now, has everyone in a tailspin. We can't go out! No church! No meetings! No movies or malls or bars or eating out!! Surely this is the epitome of durance vile. (A term used for medieval dungeons in novels and fantasy!) And I sit at home as usual, and shake my
head, not quite understanding what all the furor and angst is about.

Yes, we are faced with a serious epidemic which can kill people and has, which can be devastating in some places. That I get. No, I do not want to catch it either. Although I feel that I am  probably ten years healthier and in better shape than most people my age (76 and 11 months) I am in the age group that is supposedly vulnerable and most likely to perish if we catch this virus. So I understand the concern and even the austere precautions, which may or may not end up being worse than the illness itself.

But back to social distancing. What a phrase! We do abuse the poor English language something awful but that's off my track. For me this is of very little impact and even less distress. From my earliest memories, my parents were not big on sociability--no parties and only casual visits to a few households in Jerome, up there on Sunshine Hill in the later 1940s, Then the polio epidemic came along and I, still the only child, was almost wrapped in swaddling and confined to a cage to "protect" me. We did hie off to California where I guess there were currently fewer cases and stayed for a time with relatives. My very young memory really did not register how long. I know I had not yet started school. At that same time, I do remember quarantine signs on people's doors. Red was measles, yellow chicken pox, green mumps and probably others, or at least that is what I recall.

Until I started school--in first grade since somehow I never made it to kindergarten--I had minimal contact with other children. Most of the kids in our neighborhood were older but anyway, I played alone. It was about that time I started to make up games that were in essence stories of a sort. In a few more years, I was writing them down  and starting to rewrite the books I was then reading to suit my idea of how they should go. Still, I did not have the run of the neighborhood and any play dates were generally brief and closely supervised. I survived first grade, more or less, By second I began six years of tiny rural schools, two in an eight pupil school where I was the only girl. The summer between those years we spent in the Kaibab Forest on the north rim of the Grand Canyon where my parents ran a fire lookout. There were no kids. Again, I played alone and was not dismayed at all.

Things did gradually open up some.  I had friends once we moved to Clarkdale and when my brother Charlie came along, I was no longer the only and some of the excessive protection ceased--but not nearly all of it. Even through high school I did not date and attended very few special functions. By then the enmeshment of our family was growing stronger and tighter all the time. We did not bring friends home, much less do slumber parties or birthdays or much of anything. I think I spent one night at a girlfriend's in the entire span of years from age 6 to 19, when I graduated. The people who came to our house--and none of us went to theirs much at all--I can count on one hand.

After I left home and went to college and later to work, my world expanded geometrically and I slowly adjusted despite being still rather shy and very much an introvert. After I married a complete extrovert and people person, I had to adjust some more. We joined things and participated and talked to people a lot. There were times I loved it and others when it was still almost more than I could cope with. That life lasted for thirty two years. After Jim passed away, I found myself alone much more than I had been but still kept quite a few contacts. I went on that way for five years but then moved briefly to New Mexico, from there to Colorado and then back to New Mexico. I found myself reaching out, going out and interacting with other people less and less. Internet began to take the place of  'live' contacts and also the many letters I had written from about age twelve on.

It was not hard to slip back to the kind of self-sufficient life I had known in my formative years. True, I shared a home with my brother who is more of a people person than I am after years of working and being a union officer who had to travel and talk and meet and deal. But we both still carry that deep set feeling of holding the world at bay and a kind of mistrust that we can never completely distance ourselves from. Since 2009, I have not been active in any organization on a live meeting routine. I've never been a church goer and shopping gradually has become more of a chore or even an ordeal than a fun activity. The last movie I went to--a real theater movie? I think maybe a couple of Clint Eastwood flicks at the Olivehurst/Linda mall with my daughter when we lived up in north central California --that would be somewhere between 1977-83!!

So today, I am perfectly content to stay home and work on my various projects, be it writing, sewing/fabric art, beading, yard work, or whatever. I may talk to Charlie a half dozen times a day on our household activities and sometimes just shooting the bull. I talk to my dogs a lot but to other people? Not so much. I have got to where I can chat to folks I meet at the store or while doing some business but not to the extent that I 'miss' it when I now must either stay home or minimize contact when I have to go out.  After one has lived a socially distanced life for the greater part of three quarters of a century, never goes to a bar and to church only for a necessary wedding or funeral, hardly ever sees a movie or attends a live performance and maybe a dozen times a year out to eat...what is there to feel deprived of?

I suppose many will find this shocking and certainly weird. I suppose it is, but my point is one can exist in such manner. Really!  I am pretty sure I am not the only one who actually feels more comfortable being pretty much alone and can find amusement beyond adequate in reading, listening to music, playing videos or watching things on YouTube etc. To those who are very upset and feeling deprived, I can say this too will pass. In those 75 years I have seen a number of apparently drastic developments and each of them has been survived by the majority of the people. The Cold War and Cuban Missile Crisis, polio epidemic, MERSA/SARS, stock market crashes, and farther back the World Wars, Korea and Vietnam, the Great Depression, the Civil War...  It just might be necessary for the populace to be shaken up now and then...too much ease and complacency can be stultifying.

Desert Blooms

Every now and then there is a year when the rainfall is just right from fall through to early spring. Those are the years the desert explodes with flowers. Last year it was the case in California. This year maybe Arizona. I have not been up into the middle of the state and have not heard if the route from Tucson to Phoenix or on north from here on I-17 is good or not. Locally (Cochise County) it is an above average year.

Here we have a lot of the Mexican Gold poppies. They are very similar to the California variety and look much the same. To me they always look like sun drops scattered across the ground, some in thick clumps and others one by one anywhere from inches to yards apart.  As I walk along our road each day with my dogs I've been watching them start to appear. I probably missed the best day to get photos on Saturday. It hit 79 here that afternoon and the  flowers were aglow that morning. Then it rained yesterday most of the day so this morning they were all closed and a few beaten down. They may pop back to full display tomorrow--I can hope! There are a few on my place but they are widely scattered. I intend to get some seeds and spread them around in hopes that next spring will be just right again.

I have no idea when the pictures I am going to share were taken. It was sometime between 1979 and 1988 and they were taken by my parents and deceased youngest brother while they were living at Duncan, a tiny town on US Highway 70 just inside the line between Arizona and New Mexico. The mountains between there and the larger town of Safford, AZ are almost famous for the poppy displays that appear every now and then. Something in the soil and climate seems to really support them. There are other flowers too but the poppies are the pinnacle.

These were film photos, probably with a good SLR camera, but the color has faded some on these non-commercial prints. I suspect it was also rather overcast that day because the light looks a bit flat. However the spectacular views are still impressive. I've thought about driving over there--it is about 2-3 hours from my current home--but have not made the trip yet and it will soon probably be too late. We'll see.

Another interesting thing about this area is a great number of small probably volcanic stones, tiny geodes of white quartz. Some are very opaque and I call them "desert pearls." Other are semi translucent and the tiny crystals inside look almost like a strange miniature 'brain' while a few larger ones are broken open to reveal the sugary crystal structure inside. I'm not sure it is safe or allowed to go off on some of the dirt tracks and collect them now or not. Much has changed in the last twenty years or so on such things. So go at your own risk.

I've added a couple of other desert bloom photos, not mine but just to give you an idea of how amazing and gorgeous one of these special springs can be! Never say the desert is barren, boring and ugly!!  Arizona Highways magazine is justly famed for their beautiful desert flower pictures!!

A Close-up View

Wide angle with Ash Peak 

A yucca in the foreground

a floral carpet

Mom enjoying the view

Probably out near Yuma

The ocotillo-beauty and thorns