An Inferno of a Summer, Huge Arthropods, and Arizona’s Tiniest Mammals

This has been one of the driest and hottest summers I can recall here in the Middle San Pedro River Valley. During “normal” summers, monsoon rains arrive between the middle and the end of June and continue through August and much of September. The two previous monsoon seasons brought us a welcome abundance of rain, but this year has remained very, very dry. Daytime highs for the past six weeks have averaged around 106°F., with more than a few days reaching 110° or higher. This year’s highest temperature registered at a crispy 115°F. on July 17.

Our mesquite bosque remains dry, the understory of dense London rocket plants yellowed and brittle. Usually, by the end of July, this scene should be bursting with vivid green growth in the form of Amaranthus palmeri and many other native plant species.

Despite our xeric summer, velvet mesquite trees in our bosque have produced a nice crop of pods, followed by a second flowering during the past couple of weeks. The trees are drawing on water from last summer’s abundant storms; mesquite has the rare ability to transport water in both directions within its extensive, very deep root system. Water can be transported deep underground and stored for later use.
A fresh splay of velvet mesquite blossoms perfumes the air and reminds us that desert plants have evolved uncanny mechanisms to stay alive and even thrive under dry, difficult conditions.

Mesquite blossoms lead to garlands of bright green pods growing from pendant branches. Mule and whitetailed deer love to feed on low-hanging bunches of these young pods. When ripe, the seed pods turn yellow and fall to the ground. There, they become one of the most crucial and nutritious wildlife foods in the entire ecosystem, eagerly fed upon by a very long list of native animals from mice to coyotes to bears and many more.

Despite the drought, this was a banner year for a widespread local species known as catclaw acacia, Acacia gregii. (See the photos in my previous blog post.) Throughout the valley, these large shrubs/small trees flowered explosively. The scent from their blossoms is intoxicatingly wonderful. Much like mesquite pods, the seed pods of acacias are fed upon by a wide variety of native wildlife.

Dry conditions leave fine coatings of dust on our driveway – an excellent newspaper that I strive to read daily. This summer has revealed tracks of mice, kangaroo rats, gray foxes, coyotes, raccoons, mule and whitetailed deer, a cougar, hooded skunks, quail, doves, and other birds including this trackway of a Chihuahuan raven.

A closer look at the raven’s tracks reveals their relatively large size, distinctively lobed feet, and shallow drag marks made by their posterior claws.

A mystery…last week, I noticed something I had not seen before: dense clumps of small, black native bees forming in certain graythorn (Zizyphus) bushes. I have no idea what is going on here, nor what species these bees are – there are well over 1,200 species of native bees in this ecosystem, representing the richest known bee fauna in the world.
I found this adult giant mesquite bug (Thasus californicus) roaming under my ramada the day before I posted this blog. These are large insects that are true bugs (Hemipterans) as opposed to a type of beetle (Coleopterans).

A lateral view of the mesquite bug reveals the tube-like mouthpart that it uses to feed on plant liquids. The tube is inserted, syringe-like, into the stems of plants. These specialized feeding tubes are a primary characteristic that separates true bugs from beetles.

Prior to maturation, giant mesquite bugs exist in the form of wingless nymphs. The nymphs form colonies that feed on liquids from various species of trees and shrubs. The nymphs go through several instars before finally transforming into adults, all of which exhibit these very bright red colors. The nymphs are protected with self-manufactured noxious chemicals that make them taste bad to predators, hence their aposematic coloration.

Arizona’s smallest mammals are shrews; I found this one – dead but still warm – on the floor of our bosque. This species is known as the desert shrew, Notiosorex crawfordi. Shrews are among the most highly energized, frenetic mammals on Earth. They require remarkable amounts of food – up to nearly half their body weight on a daily basis. They almost never stop moving, constantly on the hunt. I wonder how they have time to dream.

This sight greeted me a few mornings ago, when I walked outside just after dawn to see this giant centipede (Scolopendra heros) clinging to the wall of my adobe building. The broom handle gives a sense of scale. This one was just under seven inches long – and they get bigger than this, up to nine inches in length. Very large specimens measure around an inch in width across their backs, are equipped with formidable pincers, and can move at astounding speeds.

High winds snapped this velvet mesquite trunk at the location of a cavity hollowed out by Gila woodpeckers. I have seen such tree breaks many times, both locally in this southern desert and in the northern Rockies. There is a complex relationship between cavity-making birds and their varied roles in forest ecology that may be more important we know.

A close look at the exposed woodpecker cavity shows the remnants of a successful nesting season. Last month, a pair of ash-throated flycatchers raised a batch of young within the sheltered confines of this tree cavity.

This image should be entitled “HOPE”… a series of empty, dry water buckets under my roofline, hoping and waiting for the summer rains. Why collect rainwater when we have a well, particularly summer rain water? The summer storms often feature stunning amounts of lightning, which allows substantial amounts of elemental nitrogen to be carried from the atmosphere (via rainfall) down to the ground, where it greens the Earth. All gardeners should learn that summer rain water collected after lightning storms works magic on plant growth.

A Photographic Tour of Early Summer Life Along the San Pedro River

First, an important message to my readers: For a much better experience, when you receive notice of new blog posts in your email, please be sure to click on the blog’s title. That will take you to my blog website, where the photographs are larger and the text is more readable. Also, there is a “featured image” at the top of every new blog post that does not appear in the email version. Do this now – you will notice a substantial improvement!

Summer has come to the river and its valleys, bringing a cavalcade of change to the animal world. Today, my thermometer registered 113° F. I don’t leave southern Arizona during the summer like so many people do every year. This is my favorite season here, because so much happens in the natural world during the fierce heat of summer…

Mike and Mavis have successfully raised their seventh brood here on our land. This year, four new ravens have fledged and left the nest. Here are two of them. Note the pinkish-white bordering around their beaks and their pink mouths. As they mature, the pinkish color on their beaks disappears, and the inside of their mouths turns black.

Several weeks ago, the velvet mesquite trees erupted with fresh blossoms. These are the precursors to an abundance of bean pods that provide one of the most crucially important food sources for the valley’s wildlife.

A closer look at the flowers of a velvet mesquite tree. These blossoms perfume the air with a sweet, heady fragrance.

A queen butterfly alights to drink from the wet mud surrounding our watering hole. This insect is often mistaken for its well-known cousin, the monarch.

The back side of a male Gould’s turkey in full display. These birds – and their tails – are huge! The white tips on the tail feathers are one of the field marks that distinguish this race of wild turkeys from their eastern relatives. Part of the display involves dragging the wing tips on the ground, an action that creates a loud rasping sound, meant to intimidate rival males.

A male summer tanager comes to feed from a block of suet. This is America’s only all-red bird, a living statement of resplendent color and grace. Their future in this valley is being threatened by large numbers of brown-headed cowbirds.

This male black-headed grosbeak has been sending his voice through the bosque every morning, a series of loud, robin-like notes.

Few of our western birds are more strikingly colored than the western tanager. A different race of this species stays here in the valley floor to breed every summer. Most western tanagers utilize very different breeding habitats – namely, conifer forests at higher elevations.

A male blue grosbeak that visits daily for water. Blue is one of the rarest of colors among Earth’s terrestrial vertebrate animals.

A new beaver dam graces the flow of the San Pedro River. Dams like this permit substantially more water to infiltrate the ground below their surfaces, recharging the shallow aquifers that give life to the river’s riparian forests of cottonwoods and willow trees. There were five more dams below this one. I cannot think of a single mammalian species that is more beneficial to the river and its forests than beavers are.

I awoke one morning to find this characteristic fresh imprint at the foot of my entry steps. A rattlesnake had curled up there the night prior, leaving its signature circular mark. No other Arizona snakes rest in such a circular position. For reference, the grizzly track cast in concrete is six inches in width. Grizzlies were once common along this river until they were wiped out by Spanish and American settlers.

A black-tailed jackrabbit resting in the shade of a mesquite trunk on a toasty summer day. When the heat cranks up, animal behavior changes. This hare let me approach within four feet, something it would not have allowed on a cooler day. The name “jackrabbit” is a misnomer, as these creatures are hares, not rabbits.


Until I came to live in southeastern Arizona, I would not have believed that there could be pink snakes native to our country. This coachwhip snake appeared on a hot afternoon, five feet of blazing bubblegum pinkness!

Coachwhip snakes are expert climbers. Kathleen and I looked out a window one day to see this tail protruding from an active Gila woodpecker nest. Fortunately, the snake did not wipe out the entire brood – it consumed one or two nestlings and moved on.

A gopher snake encountered on a sandy bank of the San Pedro River. These snakes attain lengths of seven feet or more and are often mistaken for rattlesnakes. They are among the most effective rodent controllers we have. Favored food items include mice, rats, and gophers.

A diamondback rattlesnake slithers through the mesquite bosque, traveling in a manner common among rattlesnakes, using caterpillar motion. When snakes crawl in this fashion, their bodies remain almost straight rather than sinuously curved. We never kill these animals. They have a right to live here, no less than we do. When summer comes, we are always on guard, watching closely where we place every footstep, especially after dark.

Beavers add a special touch of beauty to the river, creating ponds that mirror their surroundings and provide needed habitat for a long list of other creatures.