Day and Night

1. Day

Our daughter-in-law Heather (along with our four-year-old grandson Gareth) came by yesterday (Wednesday) and said she was going to to be leading an upcoming botanical tour on the top of the mountain and wanted to go up there today to check on some identifications, and why didn't we all go up together and take a picnic. It sounded good to us.

We drove up and found out the last thousand or so feet (of elevation) was still off limits after the fire, which meant we couldn't go any farther than the tiny community of Summerhaven. It's a collection of mainly summer houses where people go to escape the summer in Tucson. In one of the area's recurrent fires about fifteen years ago, it virtually all burned to the ground. Now it was completely rebuilt, and I imagine the people had some tense moments during this latest fire, which was threatening. But the firefighters worked heroically and managed to save all the houses. There is a hill that overlooks the community and offers a charming view of the vacation cabins squeezed into various crannies among tall trees. The hill top, called Inspiration Point, is a favorite place for Cheryl and me. We often come there to have a cup of coffee and enjoy the diverse birds, seemingly always migrating one way or other at this 8000-foot elevation.  

Today we drove straight down into the town, which follows a stream falling steeply down a ravine with many large trees on either side. Down at the bottom was a large picnic area and we picked a table. And the wildlife around us came to life and began moving toward us knowing there would be tidbits among our stuff. 

There are two very attractive high-elevation animals that we often get a look at running timidly away from us. For a long time I had desired to photograph them, but up to that moment I had only got poor pictures of them. On this day I had happened to sit down with my back to them. Now everyone at the table was shouting at me that they were all around me, and that one of them was was about to jump on my shoulder, and some other one was posing most beautifully. Well, I finally got myself wriggled around on the awkward cement table and there they were, and I took pictures at my leisure, until I got tired of photographing them and wriggled around to have my lunch. I had never gotten jaded by a new subject so quickly.

No, they were beautiful. Abert's Squirrel with its long ears and enormous graceful tail, and the tiny Cliff Chipmunk.