May is such a beautiful month in the Middle San Pedro Valley! Our mesquite bosque bursts into new life, sprouting a light-filtering canopy of spring-green leaves. Birds are singing from the trees, building nests, and rearing their young. Lizards are a near-constant sight and snakes have been leaving their telltale trackways in the dust. Late in the month, something special happens as catclaw acacias suddenly explode with constellations of pale yellow blossoms, perfuming the valley with their luscious, signature scent. The heat of summer begins to blanket the land in newfound warmth, gearing up toward the frying-pan month of June.
I am happy to report that our resident Chihuahuan ravens have successfully fledged a trio of youngsters this year. This comes in welcome contrast to last year’s double brood failure; their initial brood was decimated by hungry coyotes on the first night that they spent out of the nest, and the second brood (rare in ravens) was lost to raptors.
Loud cries emanating from the raven nest less than 120 feet from my desk window have been a daily part of this month’s panoply of happenings in the natural world. Young ravens have zero shyness when it comes to screaming at their parents for more food, more food, more food! Five days ago, they left the nest to begin exploring the outside world. We see and hear them many times a day as they roam with their parents and learn the complex magic of raven flight mastery. Few North American birds attain a higher level of flight skills than ravens do.
Only male “blues” congregate at puddles or on moist soil and animal scats. The males may require certain minerals, amino acids, and/or salts that the females do not. Local native host plants (for their larvae) include saltbush, catclaw acacia and velvet mesquite. Each species has its own hibernation strategy, with some overwintering as either eggs or larvae, as opposed to the far more common lepidopteran chrysalis. Other species have close associations with ant colonies – such as larvae pupating inside ant colonies, or larvae being tended and protected by ants as they feed on their host plants.
Mid-to-late summer is the most exciting time of year to be in southeastern Arizona; it is, by far, my favorite of the five seasons here. Locals know this time as the monsoon season, or simply, “the monsoon.” In a normal year, the majority of annual precipitation occurs during this time. Unfortunately, there were virtually no monsoon rains here in the Middle San Pedro Valley during the past two summers, resulting in a barren and desperately dry landscape. Thankfully, this summer has brought the gift of rain back to the land, with 3.38 inches falling at our location since early July, with more in the forecast. The result has been an explosion of life, much of which cannot be witnessed at any other time of year.
The tiny desert cottontail pictured at the top of this post is one of summer’s products. (A reminder to my readers: If you don’t see that image, it is because you are reading this in your email. Please click on the blog title to be redirected to my blog site (https://ralphwaldt.com), where you will see the featured image at the top of each post, and more that is not included in the email version).
Rabbits, (as opposed to hares – e.g., snowshoe hares or misnamed “jackrabbits”) raise their young in burrows and feed them milk for 3-4 weeks. After that time, the young rabbits are weaned and can leave the family group. This one was out exploring the world on its own for the first time. It was tiny enough to have fit comfortably in my cupped hand, and surely held a patent for cuteness.
The first substantial rain of the monsoon season catalyzes desert life. Harvester ants (and other types of ants) wait for that particular rain to enable the most important annual event in their lives. In early summer, the ants produce legions of special individuals deep underground, individuals equipped with wings. Their purpose is to reproduce and disperse across the landscape. The day after the first rains, tremendous numbers of winged male and female ants flood from their nests to mate, rise by the thousands into the air, and fly away. This is a true spectacle to behold, an event that typically can be seen on only one day of each year. Freshly inseminated females (queen ants) quickly dig out a new nest and begin to lay eggs, thus founding new colonies.
So why the big deal about ants? If I were asked to name some of the most critically important players in this ecosystem, ants would be at or very near the top of the list. They are extremely numerous – they mix tons upon tons of soil – they disperse large quantities of seeds – and they aerate the soil, allowing for better gas exchange from atmosphere to soil, along with enhanced rain percolation into the soil. These points do not tell the full story of how ants are crucial to ecosystems, but they do serve to shed light on their exceptional ecological importance.
Among the many effects of the summer rains is the repetitive flooding of the San Pedro River. The river grows rapidly after every major rainfall, sending torrents of flood water downstream. These floods are of great benefit to the riparian forests that line portions of the river’s banks, for they enable the cottonwood and willow trees to continue thriving as they recharge vitally important aquifers. These aquifers nurture the riparian forests and supply water for domestic and agricultural wells.
July brings the ripening of mesquite pods (or “beans”). This year, a good crop has literally covered the floor of the bosque. These pods – high in sugars, proteins, and fats – are a pivotally important food source for an incredibly long list of native creatures. Few, if any, native plants are more important or more beneficial than mesquite to this valley floor ecosystem.
In response to the photoperiod and summer’s warmth, rains, and raised humidity, many species of fungi reveal fruiting bodies. Among the most spectacular are growths of polypore mushrooms that emerge from the trunks of certain trees…
Due to a near absence of monsoon rainfall, the floor of our mesquite bosque has been barren of understory plants for the past two years. The great gift of this month’s rains have brought the color of life back to the land, vivid green that feeds my soul while providing food and cover for many living things from microbes to vertebrates. With just a few more rain storms, this mantle of new growth is capable of rising quickly to heights of six feet or more.