At the Coachline Gravel Pit in Marana

Earlier this year, the Santa Cruz River jumped its bed during a flood and started rushing into an old gravel pit in Marana (Pima County, Arizona). Bird watchers were delighted, Frisbee golfers who had their parcours  there were not, but resigned themselves to a course and stations under yards of slightly smelly water. That water quality seemed a problem to me. High in nitrogen, it favors invasive plants over the local desert vegetation. The site attracted migrating water birds and birders, but was otherwise as disturbed as I've ever seen an area. Eventually the river was forced back into its bed with a dam of sand and seeping and evaporation lowered the water level considerably. But, different from previous years, the pond never dried up completely.

When I visited yesterday, I first scared up a Cooper's Hawk from the ground. Above, a Harris Hawk drew clumsy circles. Killdeer screamed, and a flock of 'Peeps' swooped back and forth.

 On the water, there were some Northern Shovelers,  a few Mallards, and two small ducks that I could not identify because they are all in their drab summer dos.

Egrets were strutting, along the muddy bank, more coming in for early roosting spots.

A single Yellow-headed Blackbird perched on some old tires. Only one Vermilion Flycatcher alternated between perching and swooping over the water - very much like some of the dragon flies. I saw Mexican Amberwings, a Darner, Black Saddlebags, Variegated Meadowhawks, Roseate Skimmers.

Flapping of heavy wings and a lot of splashing drew my attention back to the water: a single White American Pelican was cruising there, trying to fish in the muddy water that was quite obviously to flat for his big beak. Still, he must have gotten something because he kept going.

After his meal, he thoroughly preened and I got a better look at his wing marker. I reported the number later to the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources.
   

But it turned out I wasn't the first to do so. anyway, now I know that he was tagged near Gunnison Island in the Great Salt Lake on July 22 of this year. At that time, he was too young to fly. So that's his baby picture, sort off   (Photo Utah Division of Wildlife Resources).

Arizona Oddity

Great Fair, Fountain Hills

 From January to April the art show season in Arizona is in full swing and I am busy preparing inventory, booking shows, setting up my tent, selling art, book-keeping and tax-paying, and then producing more inventory...So there is little time left for nature walks, photography and blogging.  But the shows are outdoors. Last weekend in Fountain Hills in Maricopa County, I was greeted every morning by a beautiful if strikingly unecological sight. And I don't mean the fountain itself...

"The eponymous fountain was built in 1971 by Robert P. McCulloch, the same year that reconstruction of the London Bridge in Lake Havasu City, another of McCulloch's projects, was completed.The fountain sprays water about every hour. The plume of water rises from a concrete water-lily sculpture in the center of a large man-made lake and is driven by three 600 horsepower (450 kW) pumps. When all three pumps are on under zero wind condition, the fountain can reach over 560 feet (170 m) in height. When built, it was the world's tallest fountain and held that record for over a decade." Wikipedia

Fountain Hills prides itself to sport the world's tallest fountain. True or not, it's certainly a waste of a lot of energy and  water here in the desert. It only raises up once every half hour, but even the pond, surrounded by manicured lawns, is produces a constant water loss due to evaporation....

Island of the Fountain Pond

 No natural vegetation, desert or riparian, is allowed to grow and upset the groomed appearance..
But still, the water attracts avian winter visitors as well as human snow birds. There are usually many wigeons and coots that graze the lawn and some diving ducks grebes that may indicate some fish in the sterile looking water.

 But this year a new group of birds had discovered the little island in the pond. About forty cormorants and two dozens Great Egrets perched in the bare branches of its single tree. Here they spent the night protected from prowling predators.

As soon as the sun broke the horizon south of the snow covered Four Peaks the cormorants stretched their long necks and the egrets shook their silky long-trailing breeding plumage. Then bird after bird glided off its perch, the cormorants dropping nearly down to the water level and the egrets gaining height right away with heavy flapping wing beats.
By the time most artists and customers arrived at the show all  cormorants and egrets had left for better fishing waters, maybe along the Verde River. But at night fall they were back to sleep on the island.

The garden planners left or even planted two lonely saguaros on the island. Their ghostly silhouettes added the strangest touch to this assembly of water birds against the clear morning sky of the desert.