ARIZONA FLORA, Continued

There's nothing like a few hours at the Botanical Garden to regain an appreciation for the various plants that eke out their rather tentative existence in the desert southwest.

For me, this is alternately fascinating, spooky, and only too reminiscent of a photo I once saw of a snake clan totally entertwined in a winter den.  YUCK!  I would plant one in my yard, but I'm afraid each time I looked out, it would scare the bejesus out of me, so, NO!

Here's another cactus of the mamillaria family, or genus, or species, or whatever it's called.  These crack me up as my mind immediately equates mamillaria with mammary and I think I'm looking at a big pile of prickly green b.....  mammary things.  Is no one but me wondering what everyone else is thinking as they walk past this exhibit?

Now, this is cool.  This is a living saguaro with a portion of its outside skin damaged and gone, so we get a great close-up view of the inner skeleton. 

These trees run a close second to my personal favorite, the Soaptree Yucca.  However, I've rejected them for the yard because they seem just a bit stiff and conservative, with very little humor.  Kind of like Mitt Romney...nope, sorry, not a good fit.

Even though we labeled this "Arizona Flora", let's inject a bit of Arizona Fauna into the mix:

Isn't he great?  He was living at the Desert Botanical Garden until just a few weeks ago.  Artist, David Rogers built him out of reclaimed wood and other natural materials.  I would definitely like to have him in our yard but, I'm sure, our HOA would be here with a letter demanding his removal before he was fully erected.  Too Bad!

Spidey was also a real attention getter, but even I would have to draw the line at his "spidering" and "webbing" in our personal space. 

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

If you were visiting Arizona and read glowing reviews of a site called Montezuma's Castle, would you be excited?  Well, in all honesty, maybe yes and maybe no. While our recent visitors were a definite "YES", I was a tepid "OK" figuring it was on the way to Sedona, wouldn't be far off the highway, and we could see it and do it within minutes. So, after eleven years of speeding past numerous signs on I-17 pointing toward Montezuma's Castle, we tapped the brakes and turned in.

And here it is...Montezuma's Castle.  Whereas it may seem a little anti-climactic if you're expecting Windsor or Balmoral, once you begin thinking about it, it's a pretty amazing place. 

First of all, this five story, twenty room high-rise was carved out of this sheer limestone cliff.  The Sinagua wandered into this area near today's Camp Verde about 700 CE, and probably built their cliff dwelling about 1100 CE.  Since they placed it high on the cliff wall, it was accessible only by a series of ladders precariously balanced on various outcroppings.  Everything necessary for its construction and maintenance was hauled first into the area and then carried up those flights of ladders. 

As we wandered the trail near the base of the cliff, we learned that the limestone overhang kept the fifty or so inhabitants shaded from the sun and protected from the infrequent rains. The fact that the dwelling was nestled deep in the rock cliff also kept them a cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter.  Early environmentalists.

Beaver Creeek runs nearby, and provided water for the crops the Sinagua nurtured in the slightly forbidding landscape surrounding their home...not to mention the gallons of water that would have been carried from the creek each day to the cliff dwelling for cooking, washing, cleaning, and etc.  If memory serves me right, a gallon of water weighs about eight pounds.  Actually, after double checking, 8.345 pounds. 

Montezuma's Castle was not an isolated dwelling.  There was a larger community on the same cliff wall, but it has been completely destroyed and, unless you're clutching a guide book, you wouldn't notice it at all.  Maps in the museum show cliff dwellings and pueblos scattered up and down this area of Arizona. I had no idea.  But, somewhere around 1425 those dwellings began to be abandoned as the families moved on.  No one knows why, but some assume that droughts and wars with other groups led to their disappearance. 

And, bummer...Montezuma's Castle bears absolutely no relationship to the real Montezuma who died 100 years before the castle was discovered.  It was named sometime in the 1860's by a soldier sent here to maintain the peace who apparently had just a touch of romance in his soul.

And, who can we thank for the preservation of Montezuma's Castle?  Why, good old Teddy Roosevelt who was a real National Parks kind of guy.  Thank you, Teddy.  Despite my reservations, this was a really cool place to visit!  And, we still made Sedona in time for a late lunch.  It was a good day! 

 

BEAUTY AND THE DESERT DWELLER

Sometimes, it occurs to me that we've adapted a little too well to our desert surroundings.  After a recent day at the Desert Botanical Garden, we decided--with no small amount of enthusiasm--the kind of tree we'd like to plant in a bare spot of our back yard. 

Yes, it's a Soaptree Yucca/Palma or, if you're fluent in Latin, it is indeed a Yucca elata.  It belongs to the Century Plant Family which, I suppose, means that just when it's at the peak of it's beauty, it will begin to throw a central shoot skyward at the rate of a foot or so per day and then drop over dead.  It happens with some frequency in our part of the world...not only to plants.

You northerners will just have to watch and envy as it only grows in the southwestern United States and northern Mexico. 

So, excuse me...we're off to the Soaptree Store!

OUT OF OUR RUT

January, February and March are prime months to visit Sun City Grand...or Arizona in general.  Although we can't guarantee  the weather will be wonderful, chances are it will be better than wherever it is you are.  And so it was for BC's niece and nephew from western Pennsylvania.  Visitors are not only a benefit to Arizona's economic bottom  line, they have a tendency to get their Visit-ees out of their ruts...always a good thing.  Which means, last Sunday morning we were off to explore the White Tank Mountains located just a few miles from our home.  In fact, if our trees hadn't grown so much, we would still have a view of them when we plant ourselves near our firepit at cocktail hour.

We're out to conquer the "Waterfall Trail", a hard-surfaced, well-traveled easy trail...accessible to baby strollers, wheelchairs, small children and dogs of all make, model and design.  It's a friendly adventure.

Life is hard in the desert, for plants and animals alike.  This aging cactus has provided a veritable apartment complex for native birds who mustered the gumption to bore into its prickly exterior, lay eggs, and raise their young.  It isn't pretty, but it's a survivor.

Some thousand or so years ago, the White Tanks were home to branches of the many Indian tribes settling this area of Arizona.  They left messages, possibly to alert, warn, or inform others who might follow.  These petroglyphs, which simply confuse us, are interesting, as many of the  symbols are similar to those found in widely scattered locales around the world.

Unfortunately, many petroglyphs are now behind a fence as our recent generations seem to have an insatiable desire to carry a bit of mysterious history home with them.

Saguaro cactus live within certain narrow geographical boundaries and disappear quickly as one drives any distance from  Phoenix.  However, they're scattered throughout the White Tanks.  This area of our walk simply struck me as indicative of the harshness of the climate and the stamina of those that survive it.

Every now and then, our Saguaro simply give up and fall over.  This fellow seems to have taken the count fairly recently...

This one has been down and out for some time.

From our back yard, the White Tanks look fairly inocuous, but up close they can be harsh, beautiful, and sometimes forbidding.  They are real mountains which can require practiced hiking skills and good judgement, but are also ready to welcome the casual visitor.

We're slowly winding our way up the trail, stopping here and there for closer views of interesting rocks, trees, plants and flowers...and, occasionally being passed by small children and energetic teenagers. 

Boulders are a part of nearly everyone's landscape here at SCG.  Apparently, we think they add a bit of Arizona authenticity to our xeriscape yards.  But these, my friends, are REAL boulders which must have shaken loose from the rocky ledges eons ago.  That would have been an event

.

Earlier this month, at a Photo Club meeting, our speaker advised us to train ourselves to turn around from time to time, and so here is the view behind us...a portion of the Northwest Valley of Phoenix.  It's under the haze in the distance--but that's a whole other issue.

We're nearly at the culmination of our hike...the fabled Waterfall itself.  Unfortunately, the waterfall only flows after a rain and in all of our years and hikes here, we've seen it once.

However, the rocks above do have a damp spot or two, and there is a shallow pool of water just under all of our feet.  This is it.  From now on it's all downhill.  

HABOOBS AND OTHER MONSOON PHENOMENON

A few evenings ago, our second Haboob of the current Monsoon Season blew through the Phoenix area.  Rolling across the valley, this curtain of gritty desert dust and fine-grained sand erases visability and stops traffic as effectively as any midwest blizzard or Florida coast hurricane.  Whereas, we weren't in the thick of it at our end of the valley, the wind did whip through and our brilliant blue sky became a brownish blanket.

We kept close watch, hoping against hope that it would rain at least enough to "prime the pump"--an old Kansas expression meaning that a little rain may create a damp atmosphere that might bring more behind it.

Here it comes!  Rain can be such a wonderful phenomenon and this has escalated from a drop here and there to some serious dampening of our world.

Golden Barrels are most often round and plump little cacti filled, as most cacti are, by water gathered from moisture in the air, as well as damp soil.  This little fellow is showing mid-summer stress...badly.  He's thin, misshapen and until this rain, life was looking a bit grim..  Although you can't see it, he's smiling widely as he takes in all he can of our Monsoon moisture.

I love the beautiful light the combination of Arizona dust, clouds and rain create.  It has a subtle gold shade that, if you ignore the cactus, feels very Tuscan-ish.

Our little Gambel Quail are nearly as thrilled as the Golden Barrel cactus with the welcome rain.  The dinners they've been able to scratch from the gravel have been mighty sparse lately as even the bugs are hunkered down as far from the sun as possible.  This pair is hoping the promise of moisture will pop a few little creepy-crawlies into their open beaks and hungry bellies. 

The temp has dropped to a most comfortable 91. Our world is damp and drippy and the light breeze carries the unique moist desert odors our direction.  Slowly the rain clouds begin to break apart and move on to the west.  It was a perfect first Monsoon rain for us.  Not a "gully washer" as we used to say.  Just a soft, non-threatening watering of our land and creatures, promising regeneration...if we'll just continue to be patient.

BUT IT'S A DRY COLD

In the ten plus years we've lived in Arizona, our fountain has frozen twice.  Each time it froze, it looked a little like this...The water in the fountain was covered by a thin sheet of ice while the decorative ball was encased in sparkling ice crystals. The pump continued to spew out water and the frosty fountain event was over by early afternoon.  That is, until the Great Freeze of 2011.

Yes indeed, while the midwest, southeast and northeast were shivering and scooping, Phoenix was encased in ice.  We also got to participate in this year's weather game of  "Can you break all low temperature records of all time in just one week?"  Here's our attempt on February 2nd:

It's beyond my ability for description, but if I look long enough and don't blink I can see a bald headed old man whose face is entirely surrounded by Chihuly-like designs of ice.  His eyes droop and his stare is either incredibly wistful or completely forbidding.  Wait, now all of a sudden on the right I can see two tiny lower legs sticking out of the ice, and on the left...   Oh, never mind.  

However, our little birds who winter here still enjoyed the cold, cold water.  Their feathers were a bit fluffed for warmth, but they're right on schedule for their morning drink and bath.  Then, the next day brought this:

Whoa!  This strikes me as a not terribly attractive pile of gray ice.  It was definitely colder on February 3rd than on February 2nd, but the fountain continued to pump out little drops of water. 

Our little friend is back, but his mate or wife or girlfriend or significant other, obviously sensing the seriousness of this situation, has flown the coop and is on her way to the southern reaches of Mexico.  She is no fool.