On the road again . . .

Last night in the shower, I reached for the soap and screamed. There, nibbling on the soap was the biggest dark brown blob I have ever seen. I got out of the shower, put on my glasses, and looked at him. He looked at me. This American cockroach was so big, about 2 inches, he should have had a name.

But all is well. We're packed and ready to drive south to the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Preserve, hopefully leaving Bubba behind.

Meanwhile, this week's grand accomplishment: we hiked 5 miles along the Bear Creek Trail in Sabino Canyon and were rewarded not only by actually reaching the seven falls (where water still flowed), but we saw this incredibly beautiful Northern Cardinal, perched on an ocotillo. May your week go well.

Hot and cold in Sabino Canyon . . .

Tuesday, we headed out to Sabino Canyon early for a nice hike on the Phoneline Trail, some 5 miles along the ridge line above the canyon floor. We weren't sure we could take on this big a hike, but we were ready to try.

Just by the visitor center we spotted this beautiful and unusual bird, a Pyrrhuloxia, a kind of cardinal, but red and gray, and unique to the Southwest and Mexico. I'm always thrilled when we can see, identify AND photo the bird! He seemed to know I really wanted to take the pic.



After shivering for three days without heat in the house, it seemed just right to shiver along the trail. Here the Saguaro cacti grow so tall against the mountains and sheltered from the wind, some must be nearly 200 years old. Each arm on the Saguaro may take up to 75 years to grow. Other cactii cling to the sides of rock walls, like this cholla (teddy bear) cactus. The trail was somewhat challenging but only to test our stamina, not our fear of heights. Note the white line behind the cholla -- that's the trail that winds along the ridge line, in and out canyons and down to the floor of Sabino Canyon.



At the end of the day, we returned home to a warm house, foot-weary, but far from snow. Today will be a quiet day in our desert retreat. This morning on the patio we saw a lovely pair of Gamble's Quail, a house finch brilliant red, and a curved-bill Thresher. Only two weeks and we're back on the road in the great Southwest.

Tucson morning . . .

As I struggle with my writing, every morning begins anew. The words don't come, so I walk out on the patio high above Tucson, the sun just lifting over the mountain, blue sky above, birds calling, bright morning everywhere.

And then she comes, as if I were invisible, a small green hummingbird. I stand still. She flits from branch to branch, then settles for long moments, tiny green in the brush. She stares at me, through me. Only her small brown head moves, checking everywhere. She stares at me again, and then she is gone.



Around me, the arroyo teems with life. Other birds fly by: a male Anna's Hummingbird preens nearby; a House Finch brown and blush-red balances atop a bare-limbed tree. Several Saguaro stand sentinel nearby, their limbs punctuated by holes, little nests for burrowing birds, an occasional owl, a cactus wren. Down in the valley, cars stream along ribbon roads. Back to the den I go, all enclosed, the outside world fades, invisible, and I write.

Today's prompt comes from Sunday Scribblings, prompt number 250! An amazing writer's blog. Visit to write or read on . . .

Yesterday we hiked through the Turnbull National Wildlife Refuge with members of the Spokane Audubon Association, who were more than generous with their spotting scopes. We saw the elusive and rare Trumpeter swans in flight; our favorites, Yellow-headed Blackbirds perched on cattails, Ruddy Ducks with brilliant blue beaks, and a Great Horned Owl with two little owlets.

Best of all, we hiked through these wetlands and Ponderosa Pine forests, surrounded by just-blooming Camas and lots of bird song. We surprised a Western Bluebird (male) popping into a nest and spotted a very fat coyote on a faraway field. Apparently winter was mild here, and hunting was good. Still, a few minutes later, that coyote circled around and scouted our group, close enough to make us a little nervous. It was fatter than any coyote I've ever seen, fat enough to be taken for a wolf. Don't mess with mother nature.

Five hours of walking and sighting maybe 30 new birds brought us home with sore feet and a renewed appreciation for wetlands. Enjoy the pictures!



Turnbull National Wildlife Refuge

And the winner is . . .

The mystery is solved! Susie H. is now designated as the "Birder Queen" of my South American trip as she identified that little yellow bird as a Lesser Kiskadee.



You can see additional pictures to decide for yourself at Arthur Grossett's Lesser Kiskadee site. We've seen this little kiskadee in Sao Paulo, Rio, Salvador, and now here in Ouro Preto. The song sounds much like its name: kis-ka-dee, kis-ka-dee.

Outside, the drum clubs are warming up for Carnival with marching bands and samba steps. The energy hums through the night, with trills of whistles, singing, marching feet, and syncopated drum beats.

Today we traveled to Congonhas to see the Old Testament Prophets sculpted by Aleijadinho sometime between 1800-1805. These 12 statues were absolutely wonderful. My favorites were Daniel and his lion complete with curly hair, and Jonah with his whale featuring a double spout and curly fins. I suppose the curls were influenced by the Baroque era and will post pics a little later.

We traveled through the Serra Mountains and stopped in Tiradentes to see two churches there. The Igreja Matriz de Santo Antonio, featuring some of the last works by Aleijadinho, is stunning with its nearly solid gold altar. But I found the second church more moving.

The modest Igreja Nossa Senhora do Rosario dos Pretos (Church of Our Lady of the Rosary of the Blacks) was built by slaves in 1708 only after dark and honors several black saints, including Saint Benedito honored throughout Brazil and who came to Italy from the early Ethiopian Christian church. Musician Kris Katsuko writes movingly of attending services there. We stood alone in this church, quiet, and still felt the power of faith in spite of the legacy of slavery which remains always present in these great Baroque churches and cities, in their squares, and in their civil buildings, many with thick walls, once used as prisons.