Puddin - She almost looks more like a Sheltie
than the Pomeranian that she is.
But still cute as a button!
Sunday, April 16, 2006
As a final postscript to these El Paso posts, here I am with my mom's most recent dog. Her name is Puddin. I featured her last summer as a puppy. She's all grown up now.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Some thirsty desert sparrows, coming into the center where there is water for a morning drink and bath.
Friday, April 07, 2006
A Walk in the Desert
All too quickly, my falconry season has come to an end. Unexpectedly, I needed to return to the city of my childhood, El Paso, Texas, to be with my family due to a death. My oldest sister died suddenly of a pulmonary embolism. I was faced with the decision on how to get home, and how quickly. Work responsibilities required that I stay until the end of the week to finalize the payroll. I then caught a flight home on Saturday, March 25th. If I had time and it would not have so totally exhausted me, I would have liked to have driven to El Paso, and take Nina with me. It would have been exciting to try her on Texas jackrabbits. But, the time pressures made this impossible. However, while I was there, on my last day, I did take a quiet walk in the desert to see what game possibilities existed. I was not disappointed! It was also nice to visit the landscape of my youth. I grew up playing in desert like this!
El Paso is a very old desert city which wraps itself around the Franklin Mountains. It is in the far west tip of Texas, bordered by New Mexico to the North and West, and Mexico to the South. There is a significant military presence, as Ft. Bliss is a major Army training post. Much of the desert around the city is military land, and off limits. However, some open patches still exist, and there are areas on the mountain to walk. I grew up, from time to time, visiting various areas of the mountain and climbing and hiking. The place I chose is an easy one, next to an archeological museum just off the road that goes through the range. I woke up early, before the sunrise, and decided that I would be able to take the car and go for a walk, and be back long before anyone would even miss me.
I arrived before the sun had crested the horizon, but it was about to do so very soon. Because there is little moisture in the air, the light is not diffused, so becomes brilliant quickly. I parked the car and began walking some of the established paths in the area. When there is some rain in the spring, this whole area blooms with wild poppies. But there has been no rain, so everything was very dry and brittle . . . except for a few plants near the museum that were receiving some care by the staff.
I quickly flushed a couple of desert cottontails, which ran like the wind as fast as they could away from me. Oh . . . if only I had a hawk with me! For to witness a flush here in this open terrain, you would see all the action, all the maneuvering of the hawk and the bunny. So much of what goes on in our Wisconsin woods is lost for all the trees and brush. But I had come to see jackrabbits.
As I continued down the paths I heard a familiar sound, but with a twist. I had to think for a few moments to place it. A cardinal's song. I could see the singer and his mate in the distance, but could not get close enough to verify, and didn't bring my binoculars on this trip. I guessed that most likely what I was hearing was the song of a pyrrhuloxia, or Desert Cardinal. It would have been nice to have gotten a longer and closer view of them.
Keep walking, and use my bunny flushing skills as learned in the Wisconsin woods. Look for likely patches where those lagomorphs will hide. It paid off . . . but I didn't have to flush anything. I walked towards a thorny brushy tumble weedy spot . . . and there was movement out in front and away from the area. Yes, black-tailed jackrabbits. And, so brave they were. They moved off some, but did not appear to be in much of a hurry. They would stop, look back at me, determine I was no real threat, moving slowly as I was, and amble off again. But, if I'd had Nina on my fist . . . the chase would have been on!! So, for future reference, should I get the chance, or make the opportunity, I should come back to El Paso in the winter, and try out my luck on those jackrabbits!
My goal having been succesful, seeing rabbits, I decided to check out the museum grounds before leaving. Many of the cactus right around the area are receiving a bit of water, so they were in bloom. Very pretty for pictures! Also, there was a pool of water, and a bench. So, I sat and watched as the morning flocks of s0me kind of non-descript desert sparrow, and another non-descript finch, came in for a drink. I could tell I was putting these little songsters off, as they desperately wanted to come in for a drink, but were wary of me. However, after about 10 minutes, and I had made no move to leave, or harm them in any way, one brave bird daringly came for a sip. That set them all off, and they came down as a flock. I've no idea what they were. Again, no field guide. I can safely say the sparrow was not a house sparrow! Neither sparrow nor finch had any distinctive field marks to place them. Just thirsty birds looking for a morning drink in the dessert.
It was a pleasant morning. A final opportunity before I returned home and packed and got ready to catch my plane home. And I was right . . . no one was yet awake when I got back. I grew up in this desert, and it holds a special place for me. I have come to love the Wisconsin woods, and delight to see the northern areas come to life in spring, with the tulips and flowering trees. But, there will always be a place in my heart for the desert!
El Paso is a very old desert city which wraps itself around the Franklin Mountains. It is in the far west tip of Texas, bordered by New Mexico to the North and West, and Mexico to the South. There is a significant military presence, as Ft. Bliss is a major Army training post. Much of the desert around the city is military land, and off limits. However, some open patches still exist, and there are areas on the mountain to walk. I grew up, from time to time, visiting various areas of the mountain and climbing and hiking. The place I chose is an easy one, next to an archeological museum just off the road that goes through the range. I woke up early, before the sunrise, and decided that I would be able to take the car and go for a walk, and be back long before anyone would even miss me.
I arrived before the sun had crested the horizon, but it was about to do so very soon. Because there is little moisture in the air, the light is not diffused, so becomes brilliant quickly. I parked the car and began walking some of the established paths in the area. When there is some rain in the spring, this whole area blooms with wild poppies. But there has been no rain, so everything was very dry and brittle . . . except for a few plants near the museum that were receiving some care by the staff.
I quickly flushed a couple of desert cottontails, which ran like the wind as fast as they could away from me. Oh . . . if only I had a hawk with me! For to witness a flush here in this open terrain, you would see all the action, all the maneuvering of the hawk and the bunny. So much of what goes on in our Wisconsin woods is lost for all the trees and brush. But I had come to see jackrabbits.
As I continued down the paths I heard a familiar sound, but with a twist. I had to think for a few moments to place it. A cardinal's song. I could see the singer and his mate in the distance, but could not get close enough to verify, and didn't bring my binoculars on this trip. I guessed that most likely what I was hearing was the song of a pyrrhuloxia, or Desert Cardinal. It would have been nice to have gotten a longer and closer view of them.
Keep walking, and use my bunny flushing skills as learned in the Wisconsin woods. Look for likely patches where those lagomorphs will hide. It paid off . . . but I didn't have to flush anything. I walked towards a thorny brushy tumble weedy spot . . . and there was movement out in front and away from the area. Yes, black-tailed jackrabbits. And, so brave they were. They moved off some, but did not appear to be in much of a hurry. They would stop, look back at me, determine I was no real threat, moving slowly as I was, and amble off again. But, if I'd had Nina on my fist . . . the chase would have been on!! So, for future reference, should I get the chance, or make the opportunity, I should come back to El Paso in the winter, and try out my luck on those jackrabbits!
My goal having been succesful, seeing rabbits, I decided to check out the museum grounds before leaving. Many of the cactus right around the area are receiving a bit of water, so they were in bloom. Very pretty for pictures! Also, there was a pool of water, and a bench. So, I sat and watched as the morning flocks of s0me kind of non-descript desert sparrow, and another non-descript finch, came in for a drink. I could tell I was putting these little songsters off, as they desperately wanted to come in for a drink, but were wary of me. However, after about 10 minutes, and I had made no move to leave, or harm them in any way, one brave bird daringly came for a sip. That set them all off, and they came down as a flock. I've no idea what they were. Again, no field guide. I can safely say the sparrow was not a house sparrow! Neither sparrow nor finch had any distinctive field marks to place them. Just thirsty birds looking for a morning drink in the dessert.
It was a pleasant morning. A final opportunity before I returned home and packed and got ready to catch my plane home. And I was right . . . no one was yet awake when I got back. I grew up in this desert, and it holds a special place for me. I have come to love the Wisconsin woods, and delight to see the northern areas come to life in spring, with the tulips and flowering trees. But, there will always be a place in my heart for the desert!
