Coocoo, coocoo. I look out the window to see what makes this noise. I see a pair of courting Ringed Turtle-Doves perched on the Palo Verde branch getting friendly. I do enjoy watching the birds, but maybe not that way.
And I’ve lots of time to watch birds in Congress and will have much more. On April 6th, after being on hold about starting work the word came down. “The Garfield County Commissioners, Bryce Canyon National Park, and Governor Herbert are collectively working toward a temporary closure of Bryce Canyon National Park as soon as Wednesday, April 8, 2020, until April 30, 2020.” My supervisor really tried to get me into the park before closure but, no go. “Bryce Canyon National Park will temporarily close until further notice effective Tuesday, April 7 at 5 p.m.” My new start date is May 3rd, maybe, if the park has reopened. A few days later Utah closed with virtual checkpoints whatever that means.
With the next several days predicted rain for me and snow in Bryce it was just as well. And time for me to hunker in. 
But I do try to go for walks which doesn’t happen every day. Joann showed up and that was a nice motivation for a walk. Within sight of camp stands a multi-armed Saguaro looking like a bird condo with all the openings. Sadly, we also saw jabbed into the cactus, way up high, what looked like a TV antennae and a tool of some kind. Either they’ve been there a long time or someone stood on top of a RV. Either way, it sucks, and that’s coocoo crazy. Better was the clear sighting of a female Gila Woodpecker perhaps looking for a nursery.
Now that I don’t have an artificially landscaped yard, I no longer put out birdseed. I don’t think any of the store-bought seed is native so it shouldn’t be spread around in the wild. That’s just the naturalist in me. But I do love to watch the birds and here in the desert am willing to put out water in a plastic lid that became a bird bath. All the bird photos were taken through my dirty camper window many with the phone.
Took about an hour before a Gila Woodpecker couple found the water and took turns splashing. They puffed up and spread feathers, shaking and preening on the ample branches of the Palo Verde. The word went out and soon I spotted a Curve-Billed Thrasher rushing in. Maybe the splashed water drew insects on the ground below.
A Flicker chased off the female woodpecker, while several tiny White-Crowned Sparrows watched just out of frame and Gamble Quail bobbled below.
I could be coocoo crazy under the full moon. I hear people in some parts of the world are howling at the moon nightly at 8. I’d be afraid of getting shot if I did that out here so instead I shot the moon the night before it was full but I did miss the actual rise on the horizon.
The next night I tried again, and even got the tripod out. Now I have this series I’d like to put together in a GIFF. Because we have time I looked up how to do that and it’s mostly a Photoshop thing that became beyond me so I almost screamed and gave up.
White-Crowned Sparrows
It drove me coocoo when a new neighbor pulled in, stayed one night, and drove over plants when leaving. WHY? If he pulled in he could have backed out, or planned better. I am glad he is gone. Because I’m really trying not to be crazy. I’m trying to be calm. But some days are like that.
That followed by a jet punching it overhead, breaking the sound barrier, and made Sierra and I jump more than a bit.
The camper rocked and trees blew around as the wind blew the clouds about creating a patchwork quilt of light and shadow across the desert land. The afternoon brought a few drops of rain increasing later that included brief shafts of sunlight. I searched hard for a rainbow that didn’t exist. The light matched my mood.
You know how some days you tell yourself you’re going to go for a walk, but then the wind blows cool and dusty and, you don’t?
Or is coocoo really batshit crazy, which I’m sure many of us have been trying to hold off. But I’m already crazy, so my journey is short. In fact, I haven’t journeyed more than walking distance from the camper in the ten days I’ve been boondocking in Congress. Although I’ve been social physical distancing for 36 days now.
One afternoon I walked along the dirt roads to the nearby Congress Cemetery, in use from 1887 to present. Interesting variety of markers and fences. Lots of wildflowers and plastic flowers too. I didn’t go in but maybe will on another day.
I watched a Cactus Wren couple wrestling or… Well, spring is in the air.
While some of you were eating whatever it is you eat on Easter, here the desert menu could be very different. A rattlesnake went through a neighbor’s camp, about three feet long, with no head, and nine buttons on the rattle.
Another neighbor skinned, cleaned, and cooked it. Lots of bones, not much meat, a little tough, and doesn’t taste like chicken. Now I can say I’ve tried it. Don’t see having to again unless I am powerful hungry. Besides there are lots of Cottontails around and they provide more meat with less bones.
And then when I was out shooting late light, I heard cows in the wash below, even better if I get desperate meat.
Easter ended with a crepuscular ray sunset over the Date Creek Mountains.
Some days I am almost forced to watch the birds. I saw a congregation of Grackles land on my neighbors roof. Then most of them flew onto the Palo Verde tree outside my window, up to my roof, and gone in a flash.
Might be Curve-billed Thrasher eggs
Things are just rather coocoo crazy all around right now. I don’t watch TV which keeps me from being bombarded by the “BUY! BUY! BUY! You NEED this!” Heck, all I really need is some food and water. I watch enough news to be informed and stop when my blood pressure rises.
Gilded Flickers
Sometimes, it’s just best to watch the birds.
Congress mine 1914 and today.
Think I’ll go sit outside in my Sonoran Desert yard, possibly in the shade of the overly trimmed Palo Verde tree that somebody even screwed a board into which makes me sad. But the beautiful world around me makes me smile.
