Mike in the Wild

As spring unfolds in the desert, some of the first plants to bloom in my Phoenix backyard are aloes.  I grow several varieties, the largest of which is the aloe vera, a succulent native to the Arabian Peninsula.  A few especially big individuals sprout blooms that tower close to five feet in height. The viscous pulp in the aloe's thick arms is the main ingredient in many ski moisturizers and burn salves, but the scientific evidence on the actual efficacy remains inconclusive.  However it's clear that the flowers of the plant sustain a variety of bird and insect life during the yellow blooms' month-long appearance.  The "kwack-kwack-kwack" of Gila woodpeckers and the "tweet-tweet-tweet" of verdins alert me to the presence of the birds in my garden.  They are most likely feeding on the nectar of the aloe vera blooms and the insects attracted to the sweet liquid.  In fact, I even see Anna hummingbirds that when not imbibing in the nectar also hunt for tiny ...

Back on the catamaran a  fellow snorkeler commented that the water we had just exited was shockingly cold.  I agreed.  But I also noted to myself that the water temperature might have been the only big difference in my snorkeling adventure at Santa Maria Cove that day compared to the previous time I had visited the site.  Of course there were a few other contrasts in the visits.  More than three years ago, I had visited on a morning tour off of the Ruby Princess anchored in Cabo San Lucas's bay.  More recently, it was an afternoon outing off of the Majestic Princess, a much newer and larger ship in the cruise line's fleet.   The temperature difference was almost certainly because of the times of year for the visits: the first occasion in late November, this one in late February.  While the weather seemed about the same - warm and sunny - apparently the winter season brings more dramatic changes to the sea, when the water reaches 70 degrees ve...

Mazatlán is known for its near perfect winter weather and its wide, golden-sand beaches, making it a popular destination for Americans during the cold months.  Within sight of its tourist zones, its large commercial port reminds you Mazatlán is also a center of fishing and agriculture for the Mexican state of Sinaloa.  In addition, a large brewery and two power plants signal that industry of all varieties fuel the local economy.  However I disembarked my cruise ship with a much less lucrative activity in mind: birding. The ports on Mexico's tropical west coast attract many species of seabirds.  Magnificent frigatebirds, brown pelicans, cormorants, brown boobies, and sea gulls are just some of the birds that greet arriving ships in these harbors.  From Mazatlán's own port, I boarded a small boat with twenty-five of my Majestic Princess passengers shortly after the cruise ship's arrival.  We were setting off to explore the bird life that inhabit the estuary t...

As my cruise ship moored, the forays of the flycatchers in the park beyond my stateroom balcony should have been a hint that I was in store for something completely different in Puerto Vallarta.  And the hooded oriole poking through a tree's pink blossoms as I walked to my tour's excursion boat on the next pier was yet another clue.  A short time later, the brown boobies diving in the motorized catamaran's wake confirmed that this visit to the Mexican Riviera's most popular vacation spot was going to be unlike any other before. I've been to Puerto Vallarta at least a dozen times, staying in guest houses, hotels, and stopping for day-long visits off of cruise ships.  The city is most famous for its Zona Romantica, a charming neighborhood of bridges, trees, and red tile-roofed adobe buildings that house art galleries, bars, and restaurants close to the shore.  Sprawling north is the long Malecón leading to mega resorts, while south lies vacation homes nestled in verda...

Hummingbirds are renowned for their remarkable ability to hover in midair.  They use their exceptionally fast-beating wings to remain in place as they sip nectar from a flower or sugar water from a feeder.  The only other bird I've seen share this skill is the kingfisher as it hunts for fish over a body of water.  However on a recent visit to Papago Park, an osprey appeared just as equally accomplished in its gravity-defying abilities. It was a windy day, which is not always a terrific time to watch birds.  Their aerodynamic abilities seem pushed to their limits as the creatures struggle against headwinds and gusts.  Nonetheless on the morning at Papago Park, I observed several migratory birds including ring-necked ducks, American wigeons, lesser scaups, and northern shovelers navigating the three lakes without any problems.  Meanwhile, at least two yellow-rumped warblers, other winter visitors, flitted just fine through the rustling leaves of trees. Howeve...

The crashing wave's foaming water raced to cover the sand, forcing me to walk a zigzagging path to keep my feet dry.  Meanwhile sandpipers hunted with the rhythm of the ocean, scouring the draining sand in search of a meal left by the inundation.  Such a walk along the beach is one of my happiest memories, reminding me of childhood vacations along the Jersey Shore and future trips to exotic ports of call in the Caribbean. But I learned recently that you don't have to travel to a saltwater beach to see sandpipers; merely check out the closest lake, stream, or river near wherever you live.  Yes, I'm referring to even my own landlocked desert city of Phoenix.  I frequently write about the birds along my jogging route: the ruddy ducks on park lakes, nesting great-horn owls on the golf course, the Harris's hawks roosting on a lamp post.  Very recently it was on the Arizona Canal very close to my home where I spotted my first sandpipers in the area. The birds seem to ...

I flew four hours on a jet, sailed two days on a cruise ship, rode one hour in a van, and motored a half-hour in a boat - all to find my very first gartered trogon a couple of weeks ago.  In contrast last weekend it only took a ten-minute walk from my front door to discover my first male common goldeneye.   While the trogon was in far-away Belize, joined by several other exotic first-time finds that never venture into the United States, the goldeneye is actually a regular winter visitor to our country.  Every year I encounter a small number along the Arizona Canal that supplies fresh water to Phoenix and that also provides pathways on its banks for runners like me.  Just this past December I spied my first goldeneyes of the season, a pair of females, on one of my morning jogs.   They're distinctive birds for reasons besides their strikingly bright yellow eyes.  The goldeneyes' long migrations are impressive flights of great distances, reaching Ari...