Places I'm Visiting: Birds in Texas and the Southwest

In nine days of traveling between Texas and Las Vegas, I had hoped to see many new birds or at least many birds less common than those I routinely see in Sonoma County, but I was disappointed. There were few birds in most of the locations we visited aside from the Crows and Ravens that seemed to be everywhere.

In Dallas and Fort Worth, I saw Boat-tailed Grackles here and there, and saw a handful of Robins and a pair of White-winged Doves in downtown Dallas along with a large flock of Starlings just before dark, but little elsewhere in Texas or in Oklahoma. Here and there I noted vultures – Black Vultures rather than the Turkey Vultures we commonly see at home. In Santa Fe, it was Crows and Ravens again and a handful of House Sparrows.

Somewhere along the way, I can’t remember where, I had a fleeting glimpse from the car of a red bird that I imagine was a Northern Cardinal and I had a similar brief glimpse from the car of a Magpie of some kind, but it wasn’t until the Grand Canyon that I began to see more birds. Monument Valley, was largely empty of birds aside from House Sparrows, although I imagine there must be species that live in the area besides these and the ubiquitous Crows and Ravens.

Along the rim of the Grand Canyon, I noted Crows and Ravens, but also Dark-eyed Juncos, Mountain Chickadees (always fun, as these are different from our Northern California Chestnut-backed Chickadees), and Pygmy Nuthatches. Most fun, however, was the bird that a Chinese man pointed out to me on our first morning at the rim. Although it looked like a California Scrubjay, it was not. In the Southwest, the local jay is Woodhouse's Jay. It was split a few years back from our Scrubjays and declared a separate species. Both species were called Western Scrubjay in the past. 

So, despite a general lack of birds on the trip, I did get this new life bird for my list and I was pleased to be able to get good photographs of one. Woodhouse’s Scrubjay (first photo) differs from our California Scrubjays in being a bit greyer in color, especially on the breast and in lacking the blue band across the breast typical of our California Scrubjays. I’ve included a shot of a California Scrubjay here for comparison (last photo). I'm also including a photos of one of the Mountain Goats we saw that looked perfectly at ease on the sheer cliff faces just below the Grand Canyon rim.

Places I'm Visiting: Monument Valley

Monument Valley has to be among the most photogenic places on Earth. It is, at least, among the most photogenic places I have ever visited. We arrived at around 1:00PM and took a four-hour tour lasting until just before sunset. I'll let the photos speak for themselves in this case. 

 

On the Road: Monument Valley (May 23-May 24, 2016)

Monument Valley is visible from many miles away. It takes a surprisingly long time to reach the valley after the famous rocks begin to appear on the horizon. A large visitor center overlooks the most famous of the formations, formations familiar to anyone who has seen a few classic westerns. Guide companies hang out near the visitor's center. Bernard, my guide, was a big Navajo man who at first seemed taciturn but turned out to be a good talker with a sense of humor. There's a road through the valley that allows a self-guided tour, but traveling with a guide gives you access to the back roads. Bernard showed me some of his favorite back country views, a natural bandshell in which he played flute and drum, and a wall with petroglyphs left by occupants that pre-date the Navajo, who began to occupy the valley around 800 years ago. The petroglyphs, obliquely lit by bright sun, were almost invisible until Bernard raised an arm against the stone walls to create a shadow.

The natural amphitheater mentioned above is a consequence of the sandstone's tendency to form domed shapes that erode away to leave behind concave spaces, these eventually turning into arches if erosion occurs on both sides of the dome. In some places there were large curved chunks of fallen rock that looked remarkably like giant reddish-brown seashells.

I ended up staying overnight in the valley, sleeping on the dirt floor of a traditional Navajo hogan, a round yurt-like dwelling built of cedar logs chinked with bark and sealed with mud. The stars were beautiful despite a bright, nearly full moon that gave the monuments an eery quality after dark.

The next morning, I got up early to watch the sun rise behind the spire known as "The Totem Pole," although that seems incongruous, as the Navajo don't make totem poles. The Totem Pole stands alone next to a cluster of similar tall, thin rocks that Bernard referred to as yei' bi' che, which appears to be the Navajo word for the deities the Hopi and others call kachinas. The sunrise behind these rocks has been photographed so often that it's become a cliché. It's used on the cover of the AAA guide to the region I picked up before leaving, for example, but it's an impressive view nevertheless.