Young Ladderback eyeing my feeder; snow on the mountain; possibly New Mexico’s toughest Christmas cactus blooming; first Western Bluebird sightings at 6,000 feet.
Young Ladderback eyeing my feeder; snow on the mountain; possibly New Mexico’s toughest Christmas cactus blooming; first Western Bluebird sightings at 6,000 feet.
Disorganized late night research led to my iPhone photograph of dawn this morning. It started with Season 6, Episode 7 of Grantchester on Sunday night and my fascination with Leonard’s sermon on forgiveness to fellow prisoners. This led to the sermon’s biblical root, Esphesians 4:32, and an email to the Grantchester episode’s writer, Daisy Coulam, in Wales. Leonard expands the 4:32 message into a broader, practical thought but I don’t know if it is the work of Christian scholars or Ms. Coulam. Soon I was backtracking to Ephesus, which I have visited, and tripping on all the history that extends from there. By the time I started to nod off, dreaming of a return to Turkey, the sun was rising. And later today I’m still not sure if my retirement is directionless or not.
My first sighting of cranes this fall — Sandhills, I’m told — flying south over Placitas, Wednesday, Oct. 27, 2021.
They were way above me, looking straight up from the backyard at just over 6,000 feet. I think they were climbing in elevation to make it over the Sandias, just over 10,000 feet at the highest point. These birds looked like they chose a route about 1,000 feet lower, at the limestone rims above Tunnel Springs and Ojo del Orno. That’s a little farther east than I usually see them. They spiraled upward once they got close to the north side of the mountain, probably catching a thermal to carry them up and over and on south, experts have told me.
It was fairly early in the afternoon — just before 2 p.m. — but I wondered if dinner plans were for Valle de Oro in the South Valley and short of Bosque del Apache, 118 miles south of here. Maybe Corrales, just a little south on the other side of the Rio Grande. I don’t know. I also don’t know if all still overnight at Jemez dam or whether those who visit Corrales and other spots on the west side of the river fly down the west side to get there.
My next door neighbor, a professional photographer, alerted me by text to the birds overhead. I always appreciate the heads up, especially since I miss my first Placitas dog, Sadie, elow, a half-St. Bernard who always was the first to hear or see them in the fall. I would find them when I saw her looking skyward.
My current pal, Cowboy, keeps close track of what he thinks is his airspace but seems concerned only about low-flying ravens, Ospreys and Blackhawks from Kirtland and, most offensive of all, whiptail lizards looking down at him from the rooftop canales. Occasionally he will object to jets at 30,000 feet, or whatever elevation they fly over Albuquerque, particularly if it is night and he can see blinking lights on the wings. His senses are extraordinary but he registers no objection to the more ethereal cranes.
Invariably my photos of the cranes are always pretty squirrelly since I have scrambled or fumbled for a camera and aimed almost blindly into the sky. The photos above were taken with my trusty little Canon Powershot with a zoom lense, which is 100 percent more likely to save the day than my non-existent photographic skills. I can’t wait to see photos from my professional neighbor, who I was proud but not surprised to see out in the stiff, chill wind despite a bad knee.
Trusting in the light tred of those who look at this web site, I will confide, though it’s always fun to spot cranes over Placitas, that my favorite place to see them might be from Tsankawi, the little Bandelier adjunct near White Rock, where you can observe the Rio Grande flyway from a sun-warmed cliff outcrop overlooking the river.
Click on categories or tags for more Cowboy and morning tales, including Cowboy up!
He carries a pack and wears hiking boots instead of ropers but I think I have found a European Longmire.
Alex Hugo, The Mountain Detective, speaks French and lives in the Alps but he’s an unshaven single man in jeans and rumpled shirts with same good nature as as Walt Longmire of the Valles Caldera and Las Vegas, New Mexico, or as TV would have you believe, Absaroka County, Wyoming.
Like Longmire, Mountain Detective plots have social themes but the chases usually are on foot, often involve rappelling (actually, I recall one Longmire episode where Walt rappels) and Alex typically goes unarmed. His stocking cap is more likely headgear than the custom-made O’Farrell de Santa Fe it looks like Walt wears, though I notice you can get an O’Farrell made with 25 percent European hare. And, praise the writers, Alex started off driving trucks at least as beat up as Walt’s old Bronco.
No offense Craig Johnson, John Coveny and Hunt Baldwin. I remain a Longmire fan and always hope for more. I was already missing Stoney Burke. (By the way, western movie and TV fans, look at the list of Stoney Burke guest stars). With European Longmire, I just have found something to fill in the gaps. Click here to Sail.
PS: I take back some of my enthusiasm for Mountain Detective after getting farther into the series and seeing this line in the French-to-English subtitles: “When I ask him, he clams up like an oyster.”
