So, it’s officially summer—though we’ve been getting into the triple digits here for weeks already. Last Friday, I spent the morning hiking in Madera Canyon. Despite having lived in the Tucson area for nearly a decade, I had never been there. As I’m discerning where I want to live once the house sells, I’m exploring the greater Tucson area with more intentionality. Since I love spending time hiking in nature, this seemed like a great area to explore.
(I also checked out the nearby retirement community of Green Valley—but I’m not sure my lungs would be thrilled about living on a relatively small strip of land between an active mine and an interstate…which you can sort of see in the image here….)
Hiking in Madera Canyon reminded me of hiking in Silver City, which I used to do on a regular basis. The trees and terrain were similar, as the elevation is about the same. I admit I miss the ease with which I could drive for just ten minutes and be able to hike amongst the trees, as I did in Silver. Since work doesn’t tie me to a particular location, I could consider going back there. However, the very real danger of forest fires has me wary. As I write this on Saturday, the Trout Fire in the nearby Gila Wilderness has spread to over 46,000 acres and is only 19% contained.
And yes, there have already been fires here in southern Arizona this year too. It’s practically impossible to live anywhere on planet Earth without encountering some type of destabilizing evidence of systemic climate change. There is no truly “safe place” on Earth—and it’s not just because of the weather. Human societies have made too many places unsafe for people who are different, just because they are different. I grieve that very real truth.
Meanwhile, nature keeps on doing the best she can. Before I even parked at Madera Canyon, I’d seen a herd of deer and a flock of wild turkeys. On the trail, I encountered a mother deer with her adolescent child, along with lots of woodpeckers, blue jays, and other birds. I listened to the precious (for me) sound of wind in pine needles (more on that later) and photographed most of this and more (I didn’t get the turkeys). I will share some of those images on Instagram this week.
I left Madera Canyon refreshed and rejuvenated (and plenty sweaty!). I’m grateful for my good health, which allows me to hike up 1000 feet and back down over the course of four miles—even if I was a good deal slower than the young lady who leapt like a gazelle down a path I was carefully navigating with my hiking poles!
Where do you find summer gifts in nature? Where do you see Mother Earth and/or her creatures doing the best she/we can in changing circumstances?
My summer gifts come wrapped in watching a red tail hawk, and a pair of roadrunners gratefully soaking their feet, swishing their feathers, and gleefully raising their heads to let the cool clear water satiate their thirst in my birdbath under a Palo Verde out front.
I am sure a mule deer sometimes visits during the night because the cement pan guiltily lies on the ground upside-down sometimes.
So, they are my summer pleasure!
Oh, Mo, thank you for sharing this description of these great visitors! Indeed a summer pleasure for you–and precious water for them!
Peace,
Shirin
I recently watched a fat father quail standing guard on a low branch of our locust tree. While keeping watch over his family feeding on the ground, he either spotted or smelled the suet hung in the tree several feet off the ground. He very carefully climbed higher and higher, branch by branch and was soon munching on the suet. It was probably higher off the ground than he was used to and his chubby body looked so funny perched way up there! Laughter is another gift from nature and our Creator.
Oh, Linda, thank you for this great image of the fat father quail taking risks! Laughter is a great gift for us all.
Peace,
Shirin