Visiting the Desert at Night

This fountain-shaped rainbow appeared up over the mountains as we were on our way to Baylor Canyon. I tried to get a good shot of the fleeting effects, but only got this blurry one. 

Our family has always loved visiting Baylor Canyon Road at dusk. It skirts the base of the Organ Mountains, and is a place where you can see the desert coming to life at night after the blasting heat of the day. Last night we took our visiting granddaughters along on a wild safari. 

We were on the lookout for deer, javelina, bobcats, mountain lions, and rattlesnakes. As we started down the road, the coyotes started to sing up in the canyons. 

The moon was just coming out. 

We stopped by this watering hole, where there are tanks for cattle and an overflow that attracts all kinds of wild things. We could hear crickets, toads, and cicadas. Cottontail rabbits dashed along the road and night-hunting birds and bats swooped overhead. 

Although the big game eluded us, the girls were great at watching and listening. They lasted far longer than I would have expected, until someone's gurgling stomach sounds got us all to giggling, and we slowly drove back down the gravel road toward the lights of town.

Getting Over the Color Green

Although I loved the mountains...

Barren, Wild, and Worthless; Living in the Chihuahuan Desert, by Susan J. Tweit (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2003).

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You have to get over the color green; you have to quit associating beauty with gardens and lawns; you have to get used to an inhuman scale.

                                                                    ~Wallace Stegner,  "Thoughts on a Dry Land"

Although I was born near the Atlantic Ocean on the coast of Maine, I was soon whisked away by my parents, who sought the good jobs in a growing economy out on the other coast. I found myself growing up just a block away from the Pacific Ocean, learning to ride my bike in the cool fogs of San Francisco.

Later, when I was eleven, we moved to the golden, rolling, live oak-studded hills of Marin County just over the Golden Gate Bridge. Because these landscapes were all I knew as a child, they seemed pretty "right" to me.

However, the older I got and the more books I read, the more I sought a different world--a place where the houses were old and creaking with history, the winters were snowy, the maple and birch tree woods hid mayflowers and fiddleheads and jack in the pulpit, and the gardens were full of lilacs, violets, and lilies of the valley--the land of my birth, New England. After moving back East in my forties, we lived in New Hampshire for over 20 years until the winters got to be too much for my arthritic joints, and that is how we came to be living in the Chihuahuan Desert.

Here in southern New Mexico, I find myself in a landscape so different from that of New England that I might be on another planet altogether. When we first came here, although I loved the mountains, I wanted to run from the desert. I couldn't see its beauty or its hidden life--I just saw rocks and dirt.

This book--Barren, Wild, and Worthless--spoke to me. It follows Susan Tweit, another non-desert dweller, from her shocked denial on arrival--the desert was "harsh," "unloveable," and colored in "a thousand shades of dry"--through a gathering of knowledge, understanding, and experience to a new feeling of being at home, at last.

A wash of green 

My own journey has been much like this one, so I read each page with recognition and delight. It has taken me a while, but now I don't think that I could live away from these open spaces and endless skies.

Here are a few quotes from Barren, Wild, and Worthless, just to give you the flavor of the book. The photos are mine.

Green is as rare as shade. The desert is neither soft nor appealing. Its shapes are hard and angular; the plants are studded with spines and thorns; the animals armed with venom and stingers...

Despite its enormous size, the Chihuahuan Desert is not well known. Nor is it a popular place. It does not inspire T-shirts, sun visors, or "I ♥" bumper stickers. Rarely do its landscapes grace calendars and coffee table picture books. Tourists do not flock to visit this desert. Deserts are hard to love, and the Chihuahuan is especially difficult... 

Plants grow, but only sparsely, each keeping to its own space, a decent interval of bare ground dividing it from the next. Green requires water, and water in the desert is scarce, ephemeral. Only after the infrequent rains does the earth blush with a wash of green... 

Each keeping to its own space

Drawn to Water, for Blog Action Day

This year's Blog Action Day, an annual event held every October 15th, is focused on water issues. When I looked on Thursday, there were 4157 blogs signed up to write about the same issue--water. This year, 131 countries are represented, with an estimated 31,949,913 daily readers of those blogs.

Be sure to visit Blog Action Day 2010 and click on "participants" to see other blog entries. I am sure that many of them will be about technical or environmental issues regarding water. The last time I wrote on water for a blog action day (Ogallala Aquifer in 2007) I had to do a lot of research and felt a bit outside of my comfort zone. This time I just want to write about how I feel about water, living in the desert as I do.

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When I first came to live in this part of the Chihuahuan Desert, I brought with me lots of warnings that I had read in books and on the Internet: Carry water with you wherever you go, bring two Chapsticks (one for your lips and one for inside your nose--yes, it's true, those nose goblins can be painful), and remember to hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.

Even so, I wasn't used to the constant need for water in the dry climate of New Mexico when we arrived here from New Hampshire. On our first trip here, Beez and I went out for a morning of exploration in Albuquerque's Old Town. We forgot to carry water that day and found ourselves begging shopkeepers to sell us just a drink of water. We just couldn't get enough water inside of ourselves. They say if you are already feeling thirsty, you are too late and are dehydrated. I know what "they" mean now.

Over the years, we have learned to keep ourselves hydrated by constantly chugging water. We bought a nice big refrigerated cooler for the kitchen. We have recycled bottles of home-filtered water in the fridge all the time. It is second nature to bring along water wherever we go, both for us and for our dogs. When in a restaurant, we order a big glass of iced tea and a big glass of ice water.

I am not a mall shopper, but when we first visited New Mexico we wanted to see everything. We went through the doors of a big mall, heard the sound of trickling water, and were immediately drawn to the fountain. It was a funny experience. We felt a little dazed and almost that we had arrived there without a conscious decision. Such is the magic of water--any water--here in the desert.

One of my favorite places to visit is Dripping Springs, located in the Organ Mountains above Las Cruces. It is an incredible spot--rugged igneous mountains, lush meadows (at least they are lush this year because of abundant summer rains) with antelope and deer scampering about, and a panoramic view back toward the city and the Mesilla Valley.

At the Dripping Springs Visitor Center, there is a garden that highlights native flowering plants and trees. It also features a tiny pond with a recirculating waterfall. You guessed it--that is what draws us in, every time. Without even realizing what is happening, we find ourselves moving closer and closer to that sound of trickling water.

And once we are standing near our heart's desire--the sight and sound of that wonderful water, so rare in a dry climate--we read the sign that has been put there for our benefit. That is the moment when we remember that humans are not the only ones drawn to the sound of that cool, trickling, refreshing water.

The Intrepid Naturalists Do NOT Visit the San Andres National Wildlife Refuge

San Andres Mountains at a distance; photo from Wikimedia Commons

Ever since we moved to Las Cruces, we've had a long list of places we want to visit. Once we heard of its existence, the San Andres National Wildlife Refuge was added to that list. Imagine--over 57,000 acres of Chihuahuan Desert, just waiting for exploration.

Too bad for us (and good for the animals who live there, except for any wayward missiles that might come their way!), this refuge is one place that most humans don't get to traipse around in. From the station profile:

This 57,215 acre Refuge extends over 21 miles along the southern portion of the San Andres Mountains in southern New Mexico. It supports a population of State endangered desert bighorn sheep, as well as mule deer, mountain lions, and golden eagles. Thirty eight species of mammals and 142 species of birds have been documented on the Refuge. The Refuge is located within the White Sands Missile Range and is therefore closed to public entry due to their security protocols. [Emphasis mine].

According to the Refuge brochure, although not generally open to the public, local educational programs or guided group tours of the San Andres National Wildlife Refuge can be arranged (well in advance, due to security regulations) by contacting the Refuge office.

The Refuge was established in 1941; since 1952 there has been no grazing there by domestic stock, which has allowed the land to recover some of its pre-grazing vegetation. One of the main goals at the Refuge is to restore the local population of desert bighorn sheep--you can read about that project here.

What we can do to learn about this desert gem is to visit its website, which is maintained by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Set aside some time to explore this really excellent site--I've been working my way through it for several days. My favorite part, so far, is the photo gallery, which includes (among many other collections) sections on birds (photos together with audio clips), historical photos, some fascinating shots from remote cameras that capture visits to a watering station by mountain lions and javelinas, and a collection of landscape photos of some of the prettiest desert land you'll never see.

To get a feel for the area, you can explore nearby lands with public access: The White Sands National Monument, run by the National Parks Service; and the Aguirre Spring Campground, which is administered by the Bureau of Land Management.

The Intrepid Naturalists Explore the Desert at Night, Part 3

Here is the photo from yesterday's post that was giving you a hint about the next learning station at the Nighttime in the Desert program we attended last weekend.

If you guessed that it was a close up of snakeskin, you were absolutely right. Sorry, but you knew we'd have to talk about snakes, sooner or later!

Here is a little more of the skin of this Prairie Rattlesnake, with someone holding a book in the way

And these are the rattles

Here's the funny thing about the photos above. I asked permission (of course) to take photos while there were just a few people at the learning station and was so intent on getting the pictures, leaning in nice and close, that I totally forgot about the presenter. He was holding a fairly large (and very alive) specimen just inches above the spot where I had maneuvered my head and camera to take the shot of the rattlers on the dead snake.

Once I got over my close brush with desert snakedom, I realized how lucky we were to have Doug Burkett, author of Amphibians & Reptiles of White Sands Missile Range; Field Guide 2008, right there with us to share his knowledge.

Doug has been interested in snakes since he was in elementary school, and in his 18 years out on the White Sands Missile Range he has studied and collected specimens of its reptiles and amphibians. He is an absolutely marvelous speaker and goes to elementary and middle schools around southern New Mexico to teach about desert animals. The kids must be fascinated!

Doug shows us a rat snake

Here are some of the things about snake behavior that we learned.

• Snakes don't see you; they sense your heat and figure out how big you are.
• Based on your size, a snake determines whether you are something to eat, or something that wants to eat him.
• Snakes don't really want to mess with us--we are too big and inedible
• If you interrupt a snake when he is headed somewhere, his inclination will be to continue in that direction when he gets the chance. For instance, if you are standing west of a snake who is traveling from east to west, and if you should pick up the snake (the mind boggles!) and toss him back along his trail, he will come right back at you. This isn't because he is coming at you, it's just because he is still headed in his original direction. If you've ever tried to help a turtle across a road, you will recognize this behavior--don't try to turn him around, because he knows where he is going.
• If you should try to capture a snake by grabbing him behind the head, he will struggle. Wouldn't you? Doug demonstrated how you should place your hand along the snake's back and ease your other hand up toward the head. This is, of course, only done with snakes that are non-venomous. Naturally, in my case, this isn't done at all!

This last photo is of a Checkered Garter Snake. It was taken through the side of a mesh cage, which is why it looks a little fuzzy

The Intrepid Naturalists would like to share a bit more about desert reptiles and amphibians, but first--some photos of the desert sky at dusk tomorrow for Skywatch.

The Intrepid Naturalists Explore the Desert at Night, Part 1

Dusk in the Chihuahuan Desert Nature Park

Picture the empty desert and then, picture yourself out there walking around in the darkness. A few years ago, you would never have found me in this situation--but I guess I can still surprise myself.

Last Saturday night we attended a really special event called Nighttime in the Desert, which was held at the Chihuahuan Desert Nature Park, a 935-acre site northeast of Las Cruces. The Asombro Institute for Science Education, which is responsible for the park, works to foster scientific literacy in children and adults by teaching them about the desert, its plants and its animals.

We arrived in the parking lot at dusk after a trip down a five-mile dirt road and were greeted by the Executive Director, Dr. Stephanie Bestelmeyer. Dr. Bestelmeyer wants to see people get excited by science, and she and her staff and volunteers make sure that happens as they share their knowledge and enthusiasm.

The beginning of the trail was lined with learning stations, starting with a hands-on display that explained how meteorites impact landforms. The presenter, whose day job was at the nearby Johnson Space Center, and his 5th grade son were fascinating people who really knew their stuff and were ready for an evening of explaining meteorites to adults and children.

That learning station was only the beginning. The evening to come was to be filled with one new experience after another, for an amazing night of desert education.

Next: What can you find with a black light in the desert night?

The Intrepid Naturalists Explore the Desert

We've just discovered the Asombro Institute for Science Education near Las Cruces. I liked the more descriptive former name, the Chihuahuan Desert Nature Park, but no matter what it is called it is still wonderful place to visit, especially if you are a fan of the desert and of endless views of the surrounding mountains.

Located east of the city, the 935-acre park is near the Doña Ana Mountains and overlooks the Jornada Basin, with vistas that also include the San Andres, San Agustin, and Organ Mountain ranges. In high rainfall years, the runoff water from the entire basin accumulates in the emphemeral Isaacks Lake, forming a very shallow lake that quickly evaporates.

Auntie Bucksnort and I got off to a fairly early start this morning, because we are working on getting ready for the coming desert heat of spring and summer, when we know we'll need to do our explorations either early or late in the day. The park is probably only a 20 minute drive from our house to the last turnoff, then a leisurely (but bumpy) additional six-mile drive down a dirt road.

There is a parking lot, a shaded picnic table with an amazing view, and bathrooms at the trail head. Near the parking lot is a xeriscaped memorial garden, a short "Desert Experience Mini-Trail," and the beginning of a longer (1.5 mile) Desert Discovery Trail. Everything is labeled along the way so that you can enjoy your self-guided tour of the Chihuahuan Desert.

Along the Desert Experience Trail, with the Organ Mountains just coming into view

A view of the Organ Mountains and the Jornada Basin

This was one of the quietest places I have ever experienced. Except for our own footsteps, the only other sounds we could hear were the wind through the creosote bushes and some happy little desert birds trilling in the distance.

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If you go: Wear long sleeves, sunscreen, and a hat to protect yourself from the sun. Take water, binoculars, and a camera. We thought that shady table by the parking lot would make a perfect place for a picnic. Hours and directions are here.

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From the Institute's home page:

"Asombro" is the Spanish word for “wonder,” which is exactly what Asombro Institute programs bring to the thousands of children and adults who participate each year. The Asombro Institute for Science Education (formerly the Chihuahuan Desert Nature Park) is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization dedicated to increasing scientific literacy by fostering an understanding of the Chihuahuan Desert. To achieve this mission, we currently serve more than 14,000 K-12 students and 2,500 adults in New Mexico and West Texas with inquiry-based science education programs each year. Programs take place in classrooms, schoolyards, and at the 935-acre Chihuahuan Desert Nature Park site located north of Las Cruces, New Mexico.

Mesilla Valley Bosque State Park

We went for a walk at the Mesilla Valley Bosque State Park a couple of weeks ago. It is New Mexico's 34th state park and has just observed its first anniversary. Living in the Chihuahuan Desert as we do, it's a real treat for us to be able to wander through such a watery environment.

The bosque (pronunciation is here), or riverside forest, is just minutes from the center of Las Cruces, but you might think you are miles and miles away, enjoying the peace, looking up at the mountains, and seeing signs of the bird and mammal residents all around you. I will be posting some more photos of those signs over the next couple of days.

Gateway to the visitor's center, opening out onto a lovely patio and gardens

A trail through one of the many different natural habitats. That's Picacho Peak in the distance, a sight we see at home from a different angle

An explanation of the irrigation and drain system

Part of the Picacho Drain (see the sign in the photo above this one), home to many water and land species