Mike in the Wild

Last year many juniper trees dried up and died across the Prescott area.  Hillsides and fields that should have been speckled with evergreens were instead shrouded in golden balls of withering foliage.  Extreme drought and above-average temperatures, two effects of climate change, were killing several species of the tree. That same year, I didn't witness any juniper titmice in my Prescott yard.  Was it a consequence: disappearing juniper trees leaving juniper titmice homeless?  No, as serious as the climate crisis is, I was prematurely alarmed.   The juniper titmouse lives in much more varied habitat than one consisting of a single family of trees.  And this year, a chatty pair of the birds has even discovered my Prescott yard's suet and seed feeders, both of which hang from an ancient, scraggly juniper tree.  Lack of winter snow pack in Arizona's high country is depriving local forests of much of their water source.  Fortunately this year's summer monsoon rain is alrea

California condors, Clark's nutcrackers, and black-billed magpies were on my mind as I set out on the long road trip through the Painted Desert, the Navajo Nation, and wide expanses of pine tree forests.  Over six hours later, having reached my destination on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, I was surprised that my first bird discovery was an American robin.  Surely, I asked myself, this remote corner of Arizona should also be the home to some of our state's most uncommon bird life? The North Rim lies more than a thousand feet higher than the South Rim and its plateaus are set back twice as far away from the Colorado River deep below.  And only ten percent of Grand Canyon National Park's visitors ever venture to that side of the river.  It's isolated, both from towns and the surrounding desert environment.  As a result, countless miles of views, trails, and pristine native habitat await uncrowded and unspoiled.  The forest landscape isn't all that different than o