Coyotes and other creatures of the night

I live in north Tucson very near the Catalina range. I am used to hearing packs of coyotes go by in the night, their yips and strange high-[itched calls making me glad to live here. This year they've been strangely silent. It is September and it's been at least two months since I've heard even one yip, even in the far distance. The raise their young in the spring and there is usually a gap in there before they start roaming again. I spoke with a wildlife biologist who works for fish and game and she had no explanation--she hasn't heard of any disease or any reason why they wouldn't be around. She did say they are hunted. I knew that but I certainly wouldn't think the hunting would wipe out entire populations! And I have to say that hunting coyotes seems despicable to me on several levels--for one it has nothing to do with food--the carcasses are surely left to rot, and two, they are an important part of our environment keeping other rodents down with their own hunting. I miss them terribly and have even thought of moving if they don't come back. It hurts me to realize how fragile our environment is now and how so few seem conscious of this, including fish and game who condone hunting these beautiful animals.

Add to this the discovery that the vet I've been taking my animals to for five years finds bats 'annoying', and sprayed two roosting bats with insecticide. His name is Dr. Nunn and he works at Suffolk Hills Animal clinic. Please boycott him if you are one of his clients. I have placed a one star review on Yelp and am in process of looking for another vet who cares about life in the desert, no mater how 'annoying' it might be. I happen to refill my hummingbird feeders every morning to accommodate these creatures of the night who come up from Mexico in late summer. They are endangered fruit bats and I am willing to share some sugar water to know that they are here. My hummingbirds don't mind sharing. As several people have said, doesn't this vet know how important bats are to the environment?

If anyone can shed some light on where the coyotes have gone please email me at nikkibroadwell@comcast.net, or leave a comment here. I am missing them terribly!

Bats and hummingbirds oh me oh my

With the monsoons the summer wildlife has been heading elsewhere for their midnight snacks. All except the fruit bats that are still arriving to drain my three hummingbird feeders every night!

Cute little guy isn't he? Looks like a teddy bear. I LOVE watching them swoop into the feeders in the night--not sure how many come but I would say ten to fifteen...of course now they've discovered their sugar bar they're surely addicted. Last year I think they were gone by mid september but our weather has remained warm, with temps close to 100* in the day, going down to 75* at night--one morning I got up to 61* but that was a fluke it seems.

We've had at least four and I think maybe five different types of hummingbirds. The Costa, which are here all year round, ditto with the Annas. The migrants are the Rufous: feisty little redheads who have completely taken over one of the feeders.

Looks like a little sweetheart, doesn't he? You should see them in action! Loud angry cht cht as they chase every other hummingbird away.

We've had another one that I'm not sure about. Dark oily green back, darker wings with a light colored underbody--the violet crowned below is the closest I can come to what he looks like--unfortunately the one who frequents our feeders doesn't have a red bill! Or if he does I can't see it. Can any of you Tucsonians shed light on this?

I'm missing the nightly visits of the javelina and also the coyotes, who have been strangely absent. Once in a while I hear the yips far in the distance but they haven't been traveling by our house.

The clouds have been outdoing themselves, great billowing masses that send cloud shadows racing across the Catalina Mountains. I have to say that since spending time in Portland in June and July I am even more appreciative of the Sonoran Desert. Not only is it peaceful but the beauty is at times so awe-insiring that I don't have words to describe it!



I am looking forward to the fall when I can open my windows at night again. The only thing bad about that is that my dog smells things and occasionally goes nuts, barking hysterically. He hasn't had to spend the night in the closet for a long while.

Here is a picture of myself and my dog taken outside our house by my husband's very talented second cousin, Sherry VanDyke:

Aren't the clouds amazing?

weather whine or whether wine to take my mind off weather...

I'm beginning to understand the rush to leave the desert during the summer. I've been pretty good with it all, getting up at 5:30 to walk the dogs, coming back and doing my chores outside--filling feeders, throwing scratch on the ground for the quail and doves, a little bit of gardening in the front yard where we have shade until 11:00 or so. But the last three days have threatened rain--clouds building over the Catalina mountains, thunder rumbling enticingly in the distance, a tantalizing flash of lightning here and there...and then...nothing. The temps don't drop, we have no rain and soon the clouds have moved off to the west without a by-your-leave.

For some reason this teasing weather pattern has me cursing, a fist held up toward the over-bright orb shining down from the very blue sky. I hear distant laughter, as though the sun mocks me. I hole up in the house, unable to plant my vegetable garden or walk the property. Even hanging out clothes on the line has me covered in sweat. 'We need an umbrella!' I shout to my husband. My Fresno born mate is nonplussed.

And so I work on my writing, trying not to think about the tire that has appeared around my waist. The heat keeps me hard at work, I rationalize. I have a book to edit, I tell myself, what better time to do it?

But on a more positive note, we've now got a six foot Sagauro. He stands straight with a groundedness that I find astounding considering his short root system. Every morning I say hello, glad to have his peaceful company. He's like a sentinel, guarding and watching over our house.

And the front garden now contains several kinds of agave, a large one as a centerpiece. A three foot tall, deep green Mexican Fencepost has been planted against the pale wall of the house. Our next project will be the enclosed backyard that I'm afraid will have to wait until we have the money to hire a crew of professionals.

My disdain of the snow-birds has been replaced with plans to go to Portland next year for at least a month, if not more. I hate to miss the monsoons, however. They have been spectacular, dropping the temps and whipping through with the vengeance of an angry goddess. From what I've heard, this year has been a good one for rainfall. The grass and flowers flourish on the hill behind the house.

It is now the beginning of September and the average temps will be dropping. By early October it will be cool enough to hike during the day. I look forward to the coming months when the snakes hibernate and I can let the dogs run free again. I'm glad of our decision to remain through the summer, but I've experienced it now. Next summer will find us in cooler climes, at least for a portion of it!