The Burrow

My Peace rose tree is in bloom. Giant blooms are about ready to burst - this was the first one.  The bush outside our bedroom window is also flush with flowers, some yellower than others. The vases were gifts from a friend who was to celebrate her marriage here in Tucson on Sunday afternoon. Since the happy couple and her children are in Washington, D.C. and the rest of us are sheltering in place here where she used to live, all I could do was break out her glassware and send them a virtual hug.   And then there was this butterfly, exhausted from being drenched by an hour long rainstorm, drying out on the patio.  She was too tired to move, even as I came in for the close up.  In troublous times, when Easter Egg hunts are family-centric, when Seders are Zoomed, when nothing seems to be as it was, the natural world reminds me that life goes on.

It's a wildlife awakening around here. This daddy and his family live under the mesquite and saguaros in the wash below our house.  He and mama shepherd their dozen or so little Callipepla gambelii around the inskirts of our property, venturing close to the pony walls on the ground while Dad keeps watch from above. Mom was nowhere to be found this afternoon; I like to think she was leaving Dad in charge in a relatively safe space while she went off to munch on insects all by herself.   As much as I think that there is nothing cuter than scampering baby quail, parenting that many of them must be exhausting. The ground squirrels are busily defoliating the barrel cacti, leaving their detritus behind, sual. What was unusual was finding migrating ducks on the side of the pool today: If you're looking for a Zen moment, turn off the sound (it's the Stanley Cup) and watch these two catch their breath before moving on. Filled with calm and purpose, I came...

Last night, the sun set like this but TBG and I were hard pressed to take our eyes off the book Little Cuter created.  The Grandparental Invasion - March 2017 is filled will hugs and love and smiles. Our basketball pools, decorated by the stickers FlapJilly put on her dog and her father and her Gampa, are totally busted, but the hearts and the minions and the Minnie Mouse polka dots allow us to smile as we cross off another team.  The love is there, but the girls are not. Sigh..... I needed an antidote - and Scarlett and the Tucson Botanical Garden's butterfly exhibit came, once more, to the rescue.  The exhibit receives shipments of chrysalis every three weeks; there's always a new specimen to examine, like this one, who flew right past my nose to land on the hibiscus leaf.   From the side, he's perfectly camouflaged. There were blue ones and big-eyes-on-the-wings ones and then this new one, with round wings and straight wings and s...

 We had a visitor yesterday. It began by tapping on the glass panel of the back door last night. TBG heard it on his midnight saunter to the 'fridge. He ignored it.   "Who wants to see what's out in the desert in the middle of the night?  It's dark and creepy." I heard it the next afternoon.  It was not a gentle sound.   No, denizens, it was quite imperious. TBG laughed, told me he'd heard the same thing the night before, and wondered what I thought it might be.  I looked up and saw a tail running across the deck. A ROAD RUNNER!!!  We share their habitat, but rarely encounter them. I've seen two or three in the nine years I've been sitting at this desk, watching the fauna go by. This afternoon made up for all my yearning.  This one was here for a serious visit. I followed it to the kitchen windows, where I thought to take this video: no sound - safe to play at work It's 57 seconds of progressively les...

Home alone in the early morning.  Sitting at the desk, catching up on emails and looking for strappy black sandals to wear to a wedding next month.  Watching the walkers and the puppies and the bicyclists and the garbage trucks.  Feeling content. A white mini-truck drives by slowly.  Backs up. Disappears behind the corner of the house and then reappears, even more slowly.  Repeats this maneuver again and parks.  There's a small sticker on the door panel; the words are too tiny to reveal his affiliation.  Out of the truck, he's cruising my front yard.  Eyes downcast, he's very interested in the ground beneath his feet.  Sticking a long metal pole into the planting holes of my opuntia, he carefully retrieves it and moves on to the mesquite tree. I can sit no longer. Galumphing to the closet, I find shorts and shoes.  Rushing is still beyond me; I thrust my feet into dressy slip-ons because they were the easiest foot coverings cl...

Brenda Starr and I went to Reid Park today. I'm sorry if you are stuck in your homes, fed up to your eyeballs with Snow Days. We stripped off our sweatshirts half-way through our stroll.  A prophylactic pee, as Brother instructed my nieces, is a necessary and wise step to take before embarking on any kind of physical activity. This sign on the bathroom door led to much snarkiness, although the event itself was unremarkable. Then, it was off to meander around the duck pond,  marveling at all we did not know about our amphibious friends. This fellow has a lovely brown head and longer than average feet.  Ruler of the roost, this fellow   was followed by three beautiful ladies in white We never did figure out why this one wing was stuck up in the air,  or why this one has such odd feet. Brenda Starr carried stale hot dog buns which we provided, gratis, to the beasts. It was only after we had tossed the empty ba...

A teeny tiny lizard, out on his own, crossing the walkway in the courtyard after pumping himself up and down and up and down to make the effort, lurks on the stones.  The white butterfly, more than a moth but nowhere near flashy, is nibbling on the purple lantana, seven river rocks away.  It's hovering counter-clockwise, intent on drawing all the nectar out of that one blossom, seemingly unaware that it is being stalked. The lizard is still, then leaps one, two and lands on the third stone, capturing the branch on which the butterfly had been dining, pinning the flower to the stone, while white wings fly in front of my window, landing on the safer lantana nearer the pony wall. Such drama. ***** The scarecrow lost his head last night. I found it on the ground beside his knees as I retrieved the Sunday Paper (yes, it deserves a double capitalization; it's an institution and should be recognized as such). I reassembled him and, stepping back to admire my handiwork, I wond...

Last month I treated you to the saga of the honey bees in my downspout.  It took me by surprise, that infestation.  We'd blamed the sticking garage door on some unknown spilled substance, not realizing it was honey from the hive.  It took many phone calls and a surprisingly pleasant afternoon of waiting for help to arrive, but, in the end, we are bee-free and happy. I'm usually a stickler for promptness.  If you arrive "on time" you are five minutes late.  I've inflicted the same damaging proclivity onto my children, and I've written about it here before.  My usual reaction to a technician who promised to arrive after lunch and was still AWOL at 5pm would be to leave a message saying that his services were no longer required.  For some reason, unbeknownst to me or to those who love me, waiting for this guy didn't aggravate me.  Perhaps it's because the Big Cuter's friend grew up to become a beekeeper.... before he became a cheese maker and after ...

The rain finally stopped and the wind has died down and I just spent a very pleasant while strolling my yard with my camera.  The morning paper had an article about rattlesnakes this week, but since the temperatures are comfortably ensconced in the 50's there's no real worry, even at 3 in the afternoon.  In May, I'll be a lot more cautious .  Today, though, was perfect, and I have to share it with you. Remember the weeds I decided were flowers?   Ernie and his guys were here to do the heavy lifting and carting and raking and blowing and pruning and weeding, and they started before I'd returned from the gym.  In a panic, I tore into the driveway, screaming "NO NO NO" as I saw them bent over in the courtyard.  Once out of the car,  I realized that they were smiling and, once I stopped hyperventilating and was able to speak, I saw that they had carefully protected each and every one of the might-be-weeds-but-are-soon-to-be-flowers plants.  I love w...