Forbidden Photos

This tale begins sometime back. You see, I have this problem with my otherwise splendid, if arrogant, Maxcat. He is not only convinced that, of the two of us, he is the alpha cat, but he insists on proving it by biting me. Oh, he does this in style, Max does. First he states (actually, he snarls) that he wants/is going to bite me, then he attacks. If I am wide awake, I have no problem. However, being awakened this way in the morning is another matter. Periodically these bites become infected. It happened again recently and I even talked about consigning Max to Miss Kitty's.

However, a good neighbor insisted that we could find a better solution -- and that a starting point was a good bed for the cat. So we were off to PetsMart.

Oh, so much Stuff. Like WalMart but for cats and dogs...

...and a few other pet-type critters, such as tropical fish and budgies...

...and very lavender birds for the Barbie pink and purple set.

The dog department...

...including safety gear for the pick-up truck and other automotive dogs.

These handsome hounds were the only live animals I saw on the floor of the store.

But the cat department was the goal. More Stuff, this time for cats.

Plenty of litter in wholesale lots.

Toys -- I think for cats, but maybe for pooches -- or maybe for their People.

More Stuff visible on shelves in the back room.

Years' worth of canned food.

And cat crunchies under various labels.

Ah, we're getting there -- bedding...

And then OOPS! I was approached, oh so politely, by a nice young thing who explained that company policy did not allow any picture taking. No explanation why. But being an affable sort, I closed up the camera, which hangs around my neck on a cord. Not good enough. After the young lady left, young man showed up with the same message.

Fortunately, the camera easily fit in my backpack, out of sight, out of mind. (Briefly I had visions of having to open the back of the camera, pull out the roll of film and expose it to light...but that was several movies ago. And even Eastman Kodak since has gone digital.)

I did settle on this handsome, convertible sleeping unit. Max, of course, wouldn't dream of bedding down in it -- but it proved a good safe post to keep an eye on the granddaughter, down for a visit this past weekend. And my buddy has almost reconciled himself to spending the night on his favorite living room chair, meowing piteously at the bedroon door only after my alarm has gone off the next A.M. and I have turned over to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

Three Cathedral Ceilings

Crop the picture above a little higher and it might be taken for a modern church structure. But no, the high ceilings and clerestory windows are features of a local cathedral of commerce, the Prescott Gateway Mall. The windows (detail below) invite natural light.


The high ceilings at the United Methodist Church Sanctuary are noteworthy for the many lights, necessary because the design allows for little natural light. The result is a cool, contemplative atmosphere.

Again, lots of Arizona sun is invited into this cathedral of learning, the Prescott College library. But then I'd hate to run into that guy at the top of the totem pole in the dark!

Mural Behind McCormick

I guess you'd call this a mural or maybe it is just a brightly painted shed. And, if the vague images in my head are right, the artist(s) may have added to the right hand side of the shed since I took these shots this past summer.

Anybody of a mind for a closer look at this piece of outdoor art should drive into the McCormick Street parking area behind the shops on Gurley just west of the creek. While you're there, take a gander to your right for the four seasons adorning the rear of the shops.

Under the Mistletoe

Along with the Christmas holly, laurel, rosemary, yews, boxwood bushes and, of course, the Christmas tree, mistletoe is an evergreen displayed during the Christmas season and symbolic of the eventual rebirth of vegetation that will occur in spring. But perhaps more than any other of the Christmas evergreens, it is a plant of which we are conscious only during the holidays. One day we're kissing under the mistletoe, and next day we've forgotten all about it

When the Christmas decorations come down, mistletoe fades from our minds for another year, receding into the mists of mythology, rituals and enigma. Particularly in regions where the plant is not native (or is rare), most people do not even realize that mistletoe does not grow on the ground, but rather on trees as a parasitic shrub. So writes David Beaulieu over at About Landscaping.

Of course, in the chaparral and other oak-growing regions of the Arizona hills, most of the mistletoe (and, believe me, there is a lot) isn't really obvious because both it and the oaks are evergreens. In our special spring live oak-leaf-shedding season, only the mistletoe keeps its leaves. Then you get a good picture of just how much of a tree is oak and how much is guest (above and below.)

Mistletoe is a semi-parasite; those evergreen leaves are busy converting atmospheric CO2 into cellular hydrocarbons to make more leaves, flowers and berries. However, the plant depends upon its host for both water and the soil minerals dissolved in the sap.

Christmas aside, in the popular imagination, mistletoe is not just a pest, but a tree killer to be destroyed. My ecologist Sson wonders about how many years mistletoe really cuts off an infested tree's life. As he points out in ecology lingo, "it isn't a good survivial strategy to kill the host." The top pictures are of the parasites in emory oaks with trunks in the 9" to 1' diameter range, which represents many years' growth. The scrub oak in my yard was fully grown 20 years ago when we moved here; I don't see any signs that the plants or their parasites are failing. On the other hand, major drought just might have a big impact, with the two plants fighting for what little water is available.

Note the contrast in color and shape of the oak leaves and the mistletoe. Also very visible in the picture below -- the special knot formed by roots of the guest plant. (It was always my speculation that the reason the Celtic Druids were so hung up on mistletoe was that the oak knot made a fine cudgel. Wrong, of course. The experts cite the rareity of oak mistletoe in Europe, as well as the magic of its evergreen leaves on apple and other barren deciduous trees in mid-winter.) Just FYI, the fuzzy brown ball on the oak branch below is another parasite -- this one, an insect larva. Oaks host many interesting flora and fauna!

The other mistletoe I've seen in the Prescott area is a leafless plant that infests ponderosa pines; a host pine resembles trees covered with mosses in wetter climes. A different variety grows on mesquites, ironwoods and other acacias down at lower desert elevations. One of my favorite birds, the phainopepla, follows the mistletoe, from desert to uplands in season, to enjoy the little white berries as they ripen.

Of course, when the oak (or a branch) dies, the mistletoe is doomed, as the bones above attest.

Strolling the Afternoon Away

What's to be seen on an afternoon's walk? Sights that range from the sublime (seed pod, above) to the, well, mundane problems of every day living (below.)

To report: the weather was springlike; the locale, two alleys and Grove Avenue. (I've always wondered about that name -- was it descriptive of beautiful old trees long gone for wider streets or was it dedicated to a city father (or land developer)?

There was this sign on an alley door; particularly poignant to one who spent her school years in Jacksonville, Florida, where the Seaboard was an important institution.

And, just beyond an alley fence, a tree the surgeons had thoroughly lollypopped. Yet come summer, it will be leafy green and no one will be the wiser.

At the credit union over on Grove Street, the landscape gravel had been carefully raked and carelessly walked upon. But the circle was deliberate. A first cousin of graffiti, I'd say.

I finally got reasonably good pictures of Gene Galazan's latest junkyard horses, part of the recent landscaping at Prescott College. More details in a later post.

Between the sidewalk and the pavement, rocks describe a small watercourse -- the land is slanting toward Butte Creek here.

OK, I couldn't resist doing an arty shot. In fact, I made several pictures of similar plants.

One of the nice things I've discovered about citified aspens is that graffiti artists leave them alone. No initials or hearts -- or historic carvings by Basque shepherds -- on these young trees over at Prescott College.

Now here's something you don't see very often in a mountain town -- an ultra-lightweight racing bike. The standard Prescott bicycle has a beefy frame and fat tires, the better to cope with rocky mountain trails hereabouts.

Which mountains still keep Butte Creek running nicely.

At the CVS drug store on Miller Valley, spring has been declared. I couldn't figure out what purpose the items above serve except to transmit colored light. The plastic angels, of course, are for this year's garden.

I'm more inclined to rely on the ravens than a drugstore marketing man to tell me when spring is on the way. This pair was billing and cooing on a high lamppost; can you imagine these big, raucous birds as a romantic couple? I would expect that the courthouse ravens are already nesting, by the way.

Playhouses Plain & Fancy

It's a mighty cute little playhouse there, though a corregated roof is just a little down-market, isn't it? At least for a house that sits out in the middle of a well kept lawn, where the neighbors can see and comment. On the other hand, the trim is neat and the colors are suitable to the area.

Now this playhouse is nicely hidden, up on a hillside, to boot -- and it takes a ladder to get up and inside. Much more suitable if a child wants to use it as a fort rather than a house. And, if you're a parent building the structure and you didn't get around to painting it or finishing off the details, nobody will know except for you, the family and their friends. It's a lucky kid to have either of these playhouses!

Chilly Meters?

So what's up with these gas meters that are all wrapped up in green? Are they suffering from winter chills that will cause them to underestimate the amount of gas burned during the cold months?

Or perhaps the green is a larval shell and once it is moulted, we get the boulder-like meter covering (below.)

How do I know it's not just a big rock? Because of the little door down at ground level, of course.

Business Decor: Banks

Do you recall the Wells Fargo adverts back a few years ago when bank mergers were all the rage? Big headline: Do You Know the Name of Your Bank This Week? I was reminded of the high cost of bank mergers in Arizona when I reviewed today's pictures. Once upon a time -- for as many years as I could remember, the Valley National Bank was Arizona. I'm sure that officers of the Valley could have cared less about goings on in NYC or LA; their business was Arizona, pure and simple, and they would go to bat for Arizona vs. anywhere else. We don't have that kind of financial clout in these new, improved megabank days, which is too damn bad.

Of course, that lesson for the day doesn't have much bearing on today's post, except to give me a chance for a small vent on the unfairness of the universe. What I had in mind originally was to contrast the decorative style of Bank of America vs. the Chase, at least on Gurley Street. The Navajo rug above sets the scene. It greets customers as they enter the Bank of America.

Other Arizona Indian art work on another wall -- paintings and a katchina.

Still more katchinas look down from above the wainscoting...

... and more. Some quite ferocious.

Curious -- I didn't see a single clown figure. Perhaps clowns are too frivolous for a respectable bank.

The lobby also features a handful of paintings.

And the corner fireplace completes this warm interior with a strong sense of place. You know you're in Arizona.

The contrast across the street is stark! My bank, which was the Valley when I arrived in Prescott, has totally erased any identification with the locale. It is angles, panels and all business. Nary a single piece of art work, although that display of old photos of the bank at the rear entrance hasn't disappeared.

Admittedly, you don't do business with decor -- but with people and I've had nothing but the best of treatment at both banks. On the other hand, it's special to have katchinas and beautiful weaving to look at when you're stuck in a long line.

Then there is the troubadour who sometimes shows up at the Chase of a Saturday...

Later Note: I was reminded that those handsome Indian arts and artifacts were most likely acquired long before the BofA itself acquired the Bank of Arizona. However, a pat on the back for keeping the artwork on display for customers to admire and enjoy.