This weekend I took a break from birding, not even stopping by our ponds. On Monday while riding to the bus stop Heidi, one of our neighbors asked, "Did you see the pelicans this weekend? They were on the big lake Saturday and Sunday." I hid my grimace as I thanked her for the information and raced to the pond to get a quick look. They were gone.
I thought through my apparent unlucky streak with the two species of pelican in our neighborhood. I remembered how I had specifically checked the ponds each weekday for pelicans on the way home from work this week, knowing there were reports in the area. Am I losing my birding touch? Did I ever have one? At least I did see one Brown Pelican our of five opportunities in our area.
I seem to have similar luck with Mountain Lions here. Our neighbor two doors down had one in her front yard when she went to get the paper (and she didn't call!). Other neighbors have seen them as well but I keep missing out. I really hope this year is the year I see one in the wild, and in our neighborhood. Seeing this magnificent hunter is one of the reasons I moved to Arizona!
Perhaps I'm being too hard on myself. I am appreciative of the birds and animals I see each day. Like the toad which hopped across our porch at my feet Sunday night. Or the baby Western banded Gecko at our front door last night. The Abert's Towhee which felt comfortable enough to feed close to the porch where I sat, enjoying the moment. The nice and frequent rain showers we've had recently which could make for a great migration spectacle! I gather most people haven't seen 240 plus bird species in their neighborhood, for which I consider myself most fortunate.
Another very lucky moment for me occurred Labor Day Weekend some years ago........
It was barely light out and I had just started a point count for the Tucson Bird Count. I point count is when you record birds heard and seen in five minutes while standing in one predetermined spot. I believe my record is 24 species in a five minute period. I was overlooking a resort with a open area used occasionally as a driving range. A major wash ran behind me flowing into a nice area of mesquites, Arizona Walnuts, Mexican Elderberry, Western Soapberry, Arizona Ash, and Desert Willow. Upstream was Eucalyptus, cottonwoods and mesquites, with an understory of Desert Broom and acacias, and a small duck pond adding variety to the habitat.
I had just started the clock when the coyotes began barking defensively. "That's strange," I thought curiously. "Why would they be barking at me when I'm half a football field away!" Coyotes have barked at me before if I'm close to a den or if I surprise them, but something here didn't seem right. They seemed very alarmed, yet no one else was around! As I listened for birds I also scanned for views of the coyotes, which were still just out of sight. A minute into the count I spotted the group in the open and focused my binoculars as they ran about, their desert gray coats blending into the scenery as they chased....
A black shape entered the field of view, with powerful front paws and a low center of gravity as it raced around them in a figure eight, before running behind the pond and out of view. I could hardly believe my eyes, a Black Bear in the desert valley! This was news. It would make the papers, and probably the nighttime news as well. Game and Fish would need to be involved for sure. It was so exciting to see this mountain species traveling through our desert, a rare jewel of an experience to be treasured.
I remember some years back hearing of another bear coming through Tucson in similar manner. As I traced the map of sightings it ran straight through our neighborhood, though no one saw it here. I surmised he was going from the Rincon mountain range to the Catalinas, taking the desert route so as to avoid conflict with other bear territories. Our network of washes is the last viable route for this task, which was probably done on more of a regular basis before the area became saturated with people. It probably increased the biodiversity of the "Sky Island," populations of Black Bears. Our mountains are called "Sky Islands," since the lush cool upper elevation habitats are separated from one another by desert, preventing a continuous population range for many species. These wandering individuals could be the key to the diversity of the entire population!
This smaller bear of a approximately a hundred pounds was probably on the same course as it's predecessor. Up the Agua and TV, then up Sabino Creek or the Rillito to the Catalinas. It was about ten miles, but it would need to use its stealth as an advantage traversing the territory of humans.
Part of its stealth would depend on my actions. I would not tilt the scales against him despite my excitement, so I could assure his safe journey. I did web searches later and found his travels did not go undetected, but by that time his trip was almost complete, and he was successful in avoiding human capture. I also learned later that others had seen him, almost at the same time as I, and had taken the same action as I, just cherishing the moment in silence.
I am honored to have been given the gift of this memory, and hope this bear is still living happily in our Sky Island paradise! Thank you for letting me share this unique enriching experience with you.
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