The Southwest: Big Bend and Beyond

June 2013

And so I found myself in Albuquerque in June of 2013, attending the ADAM 2013 workshop. My days at the workshop were happy and productive. And the location was auspicious, launching me into an orbit that took me through southern New Mexico, into West Texas, and down to the Mexican border, before slingshoting me back north, to Albuequerque, and thence home. Along the way I was ambushed by a fast-moving, ferocious storm on a lonely highway in the high plains south of Albuquerque (5 June 2013). . . The clouds and sediment lines framed El Capitan—in near perfect light, no less—in a dazzling geometry in Guadalupe Mountains National Park (5 June 2013). . . The perfectly named White Sands National Monument baked and blinded me (8 June 2013). . . And of course, Big Bend National Park was stunning, easily surpassing my expectations: here is St. Elena Canyon (the Rio Grande, in the foreground; Mexico, a la izquierda; the U.S., to the right; 3 June 2013); and here are two shots emphasizing the geometry of clouds, sky, and rock of Big Bend—The Window (looking down into Mexico, 2 June 2013) and Clouds over the Basin (2 June 2013). Naturally, I saw many good birds and animals. There follows, then, just a very few of the highlights.

In El Paso, I was treated to great views of this Burrowing Owl.

In Big Bend, this Black Bear and I (the wind in my face, the sun in his) surprised each other far out on the trail, and this Tarantula struck a pose in the fading light. This Brown-crested Flycatcher and this Varied Bunting are the sort of birds that remind you you’re in the southwest. A spectacular eleven-mile round-trip hike to Boot Canyon was rewarded with great looks at many Colima Warblers (the glamour species of Big Bend), including this one; this juvenile Painted Redstart; and this Black-headed Grosbeak. In Rio Grande Village, I found this Common Black Hawk and this Greater Roadrunner. At the Cottonwood Campground I had this Vermilion Flycatcher and this Painted Bunting. Obviously, this is all just a small sample of the great birds I saw in the park.

In Guadalupe Mountains National Park, I finally found one of my nemesis birds: Gray Vireo (here is an exceedingly crummy shot of one, from the Park). Later that day, on the drive up to Albuquerque, I had this lovely flock of Pinyon Jays and this Western Bluebird (which I think is subtly striking in the soft light of dusk), amongst much else. Even metropolitan Albuquerque had its hidden jewels from the natural world, like this Spotted Towhee.

In White Sands, I found the perfectly adapted Bleached Lesser Earless Lizard.

In the Southwest, space, and hence, distance (and thence time, and—for the spiritually open, at least—eternity), confront/embrace you at every turn. But then, suddenly, you come up against the discreteness and smallness of political space—the vastness shrinks to a point, and then vanishes entirely—and there, just a stone’s throw away, is a form of “otherness” so close you can touch it: Mexico, just across the River (here, on 3 June 2013). But turn to the north, without taking a step—to your political space—and the vastness of geological space and time open up to surround you; empty, silent, alone. . .