Mike in the Wild

Any walk in the mountain forests across Arizona is usually accompanied by a cacophony of squawks from either a couple different species of jays or, more likely, from acorn woodpeckers.  These clown-like birds are not only noisy, but they're  especially animated in their interactions with each other or in their encounters with any interested humans. It's easy to get close to the acorn woodpecker; I regularly watch them munching the suet, grabbing the peanuts and slurping the water that I put out for the dozens of mountain and migratory birds that visit my Prescott yard.  As a result, I've seen up-close not only their glaring white eyes and their tuxedo-like body plumage, but also their intimate contact with each other and with other birds.   The woodpecker loves to angrily dive at Woodhouse's scrub jays that compete with them for the nuts I've vainly put out to attract Steller's jays.   Like a penguin, t hey waddle down branches as they leap to the ...

I wanted to write an elegy, a serious reflection on watching a black-headed grosbeak die on my porch.  There was the thud, and the plop, and the ruffles, not to mention the tiny yellow feathers, when the bird hit the window.  There were my exclamations and futile attempts to call a bird rescue center, if one even existed in my mountain town.  But mostly there were the painful seconds and minutes that slowly ticked as the grosbeak stopped its desperate attempts to fly and succumbed to whatever serious internal injuries it suffered when it thought the bright reflection of my forested front yard was a safe space to fly and feed and live out this part of its summer. As I grasped for an appropriate funeral and as if on queue, the Laurel and Hardy of my yard, an acorn woodpecker and a Woodhouse's scrub jay, appeared on the scene to distract me.  The clownish woodpecker squawked because it wanted to feed on suet, the smart aleck jay squawked because it wanted one more pean...

What's wonderful about leaving the desert and visiting Arizona's mountain country in the summer - besides escaping the heat -  is the chance to see and hear different birds and wildlife.  If you spend any amount of time in one of the state's high elevation forests, you're guaranteed to hear the ' waak...waak...waak... ' of the acorn woodpecker.  It won't take long to see a pair or triplet flying from tree to tree and hopping from limb to limb. They tend to live in extended groups wherever oak trees are prevalent, picking and stashing the acorns by the thousands into holes bored into a pine tree's bark.  Most likely you'll see and hear them hammering at a branch in either this pursuit or in collecting insects for a meal. These penguin-looking birds have been referred to as a 'troupe of wide-eyed clowns,' and a short time watching them might make you agree, especially because they're uniquely tolerant of our presence. Hopefully, a few p...

With spring temperatures already hitting 100, Phoenicians are lucky to have higher altitudes and cooler climates for quick escapes.   No place is easier to visit than Prescott, less than a hundred mile drive. Over this past weekend, Prescott had highs in the 80's contrasting nicely with Phoenix' 106 degrees F.  Its mile-high elevation guarantees pleasant days and chilly nights when the Valley starts to swelter.  Several surrounding mountain ranges, including the Bradshaws and Mingus, have peaks that approach 8,000 feet, assuring comfortable outdoor adventures even during Prescott's hot spells. While roadrunners, Gambel's quails and Anna's hummingbirds call both the mountains and the deserts their home, other birds like scrub jays, bluebirds and nuthatches prefer cooler climates.  It's only fitting that an environment known for the saguaro cactus would nurture completely different species than one known for the ponderosa pine tree and alligator juniper.  Enjo...