August 6, 2015
Mesquite Wash
Mesquite Wash
Here in the dog days of August, can you imagine anything Seattle and Phoenix have in common?  When we lived in Seattle we’d hike the beautiful Washington outback every weekend, rain be damned, but we could never get very far out of town away from the crowds because of our sons’ school activities schedule.  We lamented this to friends who counseled patience—during the summer the crowds would all be farther out in the mountains, and we’d have the close-in places to ourselves.

One day last week, monsoon heat and humidity be damned, I had to get out of the house, but because of work constraints I didn’t have enough time to get up to the White Mountains.  I took the camera and a water bottle and spent the day at Mesquite Wash, channeling our summer experiences in Seattle.  Not only was I rewarded with utter solitude, but there was still water in the upper part of the wash despite Sycamore Creek, farther up the Beeline, being dry as a bone and devoid of all life.

Water is life in the desert.  Mesquite Wash has a spring and perhaps a third of a mile of permanent water.  It has a lot of life, even now in the harshest days of the desert summer.  Just where the water begins I was greeted by the first of several Yellow-breasted Chats that escorted me downstream through their territories with their odd, irrepressible whistles, gurgles, and grunts, chatterings if you will, which makes them one of our best named birds.  Bell’s Vireos were singing everywhere, Abert’s Towhee families squabbled through the dense, green understory, Black Phoebes patrolled the water holes, and flashes of scarlet spoke to the presence of Summer Tanagers.

Mesquite Wash has always been special for me because of a trio of unexpected birding experiences.  I saw my first Arizona Northern Waterthrush there in a thicket along the stream, one September I had a close encounter with a juvenile Common Black Hawk, and once during spring migration I counted fifteen Western Tanagers in one morning.

Four wheelers are illegal in some clearly signed and designated parts of the wash, and I did encounter signs of irresponsible usage in places, but this time of year the abusers are no doubt raising their havoc farther out in the foothills or have taken their noise machines higher into the mountains.  Monsoon rains have rendered the riparian corridor a desert greenhouse, and with feet in the stream and boughs overhead, it was a guilty pleasure to be enjoying cool peace and privacy in this close and accessible escape that I avoid during three seasons of the year.

Turkey Vultures appeared overhead shortly after sunrise, bees were around the wildflowers and waterholes, dragonflies were out near the spring, and Queen butterflies were in such abundance I was able to sort through enough of them to find my first Viceroy since I started looking at lepidoptera.  Although it may seem counterintuitive, a lot is going on now at Mesquite Wash.  Go now before it cools down and see what it must have been like 100 years ago.  It’s cool.  It’s green.  It’s full of life.
Yellow-breasted Chat bathing
Yellow-breasted Chat bathing