A Visitation

 

 

Once a year since we have lived here, we have looked outside and been startled to see from two to ten Black-tailed (or Mule) deer wandering through our yard. They are the largest and heaviest animal that has ever appeared in our yard, and by comparison to the usual bobcat or coyote or javelina, they look enormous with their big bodies and long legs, moose-sized practically. This effect is increased by the fact that they are virtually all adult males with full racks of antlers (usually in velvet). And they are made even more impressive by the fact that they are often standing just a few feet outside or front window, having come there (by memory?) to drink at a small birdbath.

Here is one of the three that appeared yesterday. We have no idea where they came from, but we assume they came down from the mountains. Everything about them is a mystery, For instance, they dependably come once a year, but it is never at some special time. They have appeared at scattered months throughout the year. They are almost always only adult bucks, only occasionally a doe. They are almost always in velvet but you could see that when their antlers have fully grown they would be immense. Sometimes they appear skinny and emaciated and mangy, sometimes, as now they are full and prime.

Often they hang out in a far corner of our yard for a few days, then drift away, and when we walk through the place where they were we are stepping on piles of their droppings.

We'll be looking forward to them next year.

Orioles

  When we moved here to Tucson a couple of years ago I began photographing the wonderful wildlife around us, the bobcats and wolf-sized coyotes, the javelinas, the mule deer, the Gila Monsters, the Western Diamond-backed Rattlesnakes, the tarantulas, the scorpions. It's how I got in touch with them, how I learned to really see them.

Birds are a special case. They come in discrete containers, and so can receive priority attention depending on their charisma. So it was no surprise I began with hummingbirds. First of all, there was their amazing flying, and their brilliant colors they suddenly flashed just by turning to look at you, and their tameness so you can photograph from just inches away. In the past I had lived in places that only had one or two species; suddenly I had half-dozen species to sort out by age or sex, and that was my first bit of business.

And of course I spent great time on the raptors, who lived their savage lives in front of us, plucking their prey with snow-storms of white body feathers.

This year suddenly we had orioles. Cheryl began putting out little tubs of grape jelly, and the sweetness is bringing bring them  up close to the house and my camera.  I knew they were colorful birds but I hadn't realized just how photogenic they were. Like the hummingbirds, and the raptors, they vary with age and gender.

Here is the female Hooded Oriole. It is the plainest form, darkish on the back and wings and tail, yellow below. It is the commonest species here in Tucson. The name is because the male appears to be wearing a yellow hood over its neck (other oriole species are dark on the head and neck).

Here is the immature male. It differs by having a black chin and black breast.

And finally, here is the adult male, going to a beautiful orange and black.

 And as a bonus, if we hadn't been observing the hooded orioles so carefully, I would have missed out on another species, looking exactly like the hooded, except it didn't have a hood, but a black head and back, and this one was a Bullocks Oriole, a species I had never seen before.