A little rain in the Southwest lifts our spirits

22 Jul A little rain in the Southwest lifts our spirits

Posted from Seattle, WA July 22, 2025

We landed in Tucson July 8 and were welcomed by a Southwest that was parched and desiccated as another “Nonsoon” was apparently replacing the erstwhile “normal” summer monsoon. We had never seen the range look so bad as we arrived in the Bootheel of New Mexico and headed for the ranch in the Peloncillos.

On June 13 we heard loud raindrops hitting the roof but I wasn’t going to let myself become hopeful: “It’ll all be over in 60 seconds,” I gloomily predicted. That can happen during the monsoon season, a hard rain that immediately gives way to blowing dust. But this rain kept getting louder and eventually pulled out the stops, leaving windrows of hail and probably right at our house amounted to what I thought was at least 7/10 of an inch. It immediately refilled the cistern.

Above: a Hooded Oriole foraging on a Yucca by the house. Four of the next five days had meaningful rain in the afternoon. And checking our neighbor’s weather station we appear to have gotten another .29 yesterday and more today. The monsoon is the lifeblood of the ecosystem down there but it’s also prime entertainment–There is something about rain in the desert, plus plenty of lightning and thunder, that transfixes us–we never get anything done during the rains, just revel in it. But we also try to remember that it can be a very deadly attraction as Lightning can kill you miles from the cloud and often the strikes are right in the canyon.

The monsoon began transforming the canyon into a happy place. This is the male of a Hepatic Tanager pair that came by for water every day. The Scott’s Oriole’s beautiful song came from several mated pairs up and down the canyon, and a dawn chorus of Birds got louder at first light.

This Rufous Hummingbird looks endearing, and of course it was endearing. What it was doing was waiting for any other hummer to come along and try to steal some of “its” sugar water and that hummer would be engaged in an aerial dogfight.

The Lucifer Hummingbird has been the flagship species at our “ranch” for the last 50 years. Delia’s folks Bob and Katie were always proud to note that it was one of the few places in New Mexico where it could be counted on to show up for the breeding season. They were there this summer, every year we keep our fingers crossed. What’s changed though is that they seem to be showing up more in Arizona, traditionally a tough place to see them, so perhaps they are weathering or at least surviving the Great Southwest Drought to this point. Quite a beautiful bird, and not nearly the meanest Hummingbird, leaving that to the Rufous and the Broad-billed to fight over.

The Red Cliffs in the rain. This mountain’s official name is Eagle Mountain we seem to have found out. Golden Eagles visit it regularly and have nested on it in the past.

We don’t see anyone for the 10 days or so we are there, which was lucky because I was sick, not covid apparently, almost the whole time. This Helicopter came by on three days to check on something just west of Eagle Mountain, we couldn’t tell if it was Border Patrol or what.

A Scott’s Oriole perches on a dead Agave and sings its melodic, flute-like song. The females sing also, we found out when we saw one singing.

The skinny-legged Tarantulas, not their official name but the one Delia uses to differentiate them from the others (that are a bit smaller) came out. One got into the house and Delia tried to catch and release it but it outwitted her and we decided it got in, maybe it could find its own way out. We didn’t see it again. This one was on the road down to the valley. An 8″ Desert Centipede showed for a few seconds in the house but went behind immovable furniture. They can be tricky to catch and release also and generally mind their own business, like most critters.

People don’t think of Blue Grosbeaks as glamour-birds. The blue can look dull in low light.They are almost never pictured as having a crest. But all the critters are underestimated and Blue Grosbeaks can look really stunning at times. They are a monsoon-nester, waiting for the rains and then going for broke. They survive in some very desolate-looking places, but this was in the lush and luxurious floodplain of Animas Creek in the central bootheel at Dunagan’s Crossing. (Clint Dunagan (second generation or 3rd or 4th?) was a rancher who knew his Birds–he had had a White-tailed Kite there back in the 80’s when my father-in-law and I went to visit him.)

On the 17th we went over to South Fork Cave Creek in the Chiricahua Mountains. We encountered Trogons three times (three families? one may be a bachelor) in our walk up the canyon, which was a thrill. On a sad note the complete failure of the winter rains meant we found no water in the creek and there was an absence of Warblers including Painted Redstarts. We only heard one sing a few bars.

We had Summer Tanagers in the Chiricahuas as well as this one from Dunagan’s Crossing. We weren’t familiar with this bird’s song, which is very beautiful, and neither was Cornell University’s Merlin ap either.

It kept saying this was a Rose-breasted Grosbeak but eventually it sat up in a close tree and belted out the lyrics and its identity was no longer in question. The Summer Tanagers that we’ve seen don’t seem to fear people and don’t mind getting close if their work brings them in. They watch from a perch and then bolt out quickly in a long sally for a big invertebrate they see somewhere.

Water’s the name of the game in the Chihuahuan Desert. We put water in this water feature and then got a kick out of this Desert Cottontail climbing up for a drink.

Speaking of Rabbits and Hares we saw quite a few Black-tailed Jackrabbits in several different places. This at Cochise Lake in Willcox. On the other hand, we only encountered one Road-runner and no Montezuma Quail.

Speaking of Cochise Lake in Willcox, it was so still the Avocets and Stilts looked like a mobile hanging from the sky.

Also at Cochise was this Yellow-headed Blackbird that was looking good even by the standards of Yellow-headed Blackbirds.

And this young Diamondback was looking good. I try and pretty much succeed in getting over the hardwired revulsion all humans have for snakes (the fear reaction happens before the brain knows what it is seeing, apparently.) But I do really appreciate Rattlers, they go to such great lengths to let you know where they are and the “tough guy” pose is mostly a bluff. This one retreated as fast as it could, while rattling loudly, to the side of the road before striking its “Now I’m going to kill you” pose. It’s so ironic that this wonderful trait of Rattlesnakes is being penalized by people killing them when they identify their position, so they are no doubt evolving away from the whole rattling thing. Humans ruin everything. I heard that to get away from nets, Atlantic Cod have evolved to be less than half the size they used to be.

We were waiting around for a Berylline Hummer which we didn’t see and I was trying to get the perfect shot of a Rivoli’s, the big Hummer that used to be called the Magnificent Hummer. A really great shot would show the dazzling Turquoise and Purple irridescence and not show the plastic-red feeder. I don’t think I’ll submit this one in the photo contest. I’m glad I’m a painter, you never have anything in the image you don’t put there.