Wily Coyote

He's a much more serious beast than those old cartoons would suggest, and wily enough that he's more often heard than seen. This particular coyote has the distinction of being the first official sighting ever at Padre Island National Seashore; my sson, the National Park Service ecologist for the region, caught a series of pictures in the early evening last November.

A few particulars from Arizona Game & Fish: The animal's pointed ears, narrow nose, generally brown coat color, and black-tipped tail, which is usually held downward, help differentiate coyotes from dogs and wolves. The head and body length of coyotes is about 2 ½ to 3 feet with the tail adding another foot or so. Adult males are larger than females, the two sexes averaging about 21 and 17 ½ pounds, respectively. A very large male may attain a weight of 35 pounds. Contrary to popular belief, coyotes do not readily interbreed with either dogs or wolves.

Thanks, G&F; I hadn't realize just how small the average coyote is. I've not seen many -- once out at Sullivan Lake when it held water, though while we lived in Wilhoit, we heard packs howling almost every night. And a neighbor once reported that she saw a pup in my yard here in the city, playing with a loose hose early one morning. I hope that animal has moved on because my Max cat insists upon staying out as late as I will allow. Cats and coyotes are a fatal mix -- for the cats.

According to Wikipedia, the coyote originally ranged primarily in the western half of North America, but it has adapted readily to the changes caused by human occupation and, since the early 19th century, has been steadily extending its range. Sightings now commonly occur in California, Oregon, New England, and eastern Canada. Coyotes have moved into most of the areas of North America formerly occupied by wolves, and are often observed foraging in suburban trashcans. Surely you remember the sad tale of Hal, the city coyote who roamed NYC's Central Park for two days before capture last year.

For another, more local look at the coyote, click over to Vision in Time.

The Lone Delphinium

When I set out on today's walk, I decided it was time to check out the delphinium place, though anticipating nothing thanks to the dry, dry spring. But lo and behold: one lone blossom! In a wet year, there would be lush spikes on at least five to ten plants this short walk from my house; in other locations (along SR89 near Ashfork, for example), these true blue larkspurs would form a smashing display. However, I am feeling truly rewarded by today's find.

Since I've turned this into a wildflower walk, I offer the wild grape vine I spotted. Don't know if those clusters are fruit -- or flower. Anyone?

Again, a possible result of this spring's aridity -- a standard fall aster already in bloom.

The habit and form of these little white flowers suggests that they are some variety of milkweed. Makes sense -- there must be some local plant that supports those woolly bears who invaded last summer.

The neighborhood prickly pear is revving up for blossoms. It looks as though there are new pads also -- perfect for nopalitos, if you know how to get rid of the big and tiny spines. I don't.

Some of the oaks are in bloom, too; other oaks are shedding old and adding new leaves in this season.

Here's one of the more spectacular wild flowers hereabouts -- the desert four o'clock. As long as there's not a hard frost, the mirabella is a happy camper, putting out big, glossy leaves, pretty fuschia blossoms and handsome stripedy seeds in due time. Despite the aridity. The plant's secret: a huge, yamlike root that hides out a good foot or so below the surface, intertwining with underground rocks. Warning: don't ever try to dig one of these up. I wore myself out one afternoon, after getting permission from a builder to rescue the plants. It's a heckuva lot easier to plant the seeds.

Oh, yes -- I got an ID on the mysterious yellow flowered plant pictured earlier this week. From Jim Morgan over at Wings of Nature. Its moniker is fineleaf woollywhite.

$622 Mil Gross? -- Yes, It Is

Happened into the KMart recently and got about as close to Spiderman-3 as I'm going to get. Which is to say, I got my fill of tie-in merchandise in a hurry. Right next to the entrance.

The $622 million figure? It's the worldwide ticket take for the first 10 days of the new flick; the $500 million cost of production plus a bonus $122 mil. A serious questioning of The Google didn't get me estimated sales of the huge merchandise push; however, it did produce 206,000 links to "Spiderman-3 +merchandise."


A news release from Marvel Entertainment claims that Spider-Man Merchandising L.P. has signed a myriad of licensees to develop product lines inspired by the film. Leading the way are such industry heavyweights as: Hasbro, Mega Bloks and MGA (toy), Hallmark (social expressions and party goods), Activision (interactive game), Disguise (costumes), Harper Collins (publishing), Jay Franco (domestics), Zooth/Gillete (personal care) and Techno Source (handheld electronics). For starters.

Obviously, my pictures include quite a few more top brands, starting with food products (above) and games (below). You can get a good cross-section of the variety at Amazon.com, if you're curious.

However, isn't anything sacred anymore? I really don't mind The Amazing SPIDER-MAN® Hamster House sold by PetSmart. But it does break my heart to see my beloved Monopoly caught up in the Hollywood feeding frenzy!

Western Without the Staging

Here in Prescott, as in many western towns, the pressure to Offer a Western Experience to the tourons is palpable. The response occasionally verges on exploitation; some restaurants or saloons are thoroughly staged and some, but not all, are comfortable in their hokiness. Others are too precious for words. The thing I like about the Waffle Iron: it's not Old West, it's a piece of Prescott history. With a western theme. Our rodeo. Our cowboys. That sort of thing. Primarily pictures. Not overdone with artifacts.

In a word, the atmosphere is for real. A year round Christmas tree yet. No embarassment about a poster for the very un-PC Smoki dances. After all, they were a big part of Prescott past.

As was this cafe, for which ground was broken in fall of 1941. The Jack & Jill was a stopping off place for truckers and for cowboys on their way home from Whisky Row; the street was a gravel road.

From my point of view, two major features of the menu: the breakfast eggs are treated with great respect and the waffles provide a tasty underpining for a surprising choice of syrups. As a restaurant critic, however, I'm a flop because I've never eaten lunch at the Waffle Iron -- I always think of it as a place for a special breakfast!

And it's been in Gail's family for 27 years; always a real recommendation!

Henry Would Be Annoyed...

...because this particular Model-T is definitely not any color as long as it is black! No way. It's as R.E.D. as those doors over at Oddball Observations. And it lives in the area. It was coming up the road as I went out for a late afternoon walk. A good walk, by the way. My SQ (Serendipity Quotient) was way high.

This red Model-T is just one of the old vehicles (in running or rusted condition) that neighbor Bernie has collected. Unfortunately, there's not enough room at his house down the street for them or his restoration work; they'll all be gone one of these days.

In the meantime, I can play at driving a red car. With classy whitewall tires. Incidentally, I got an explanation of why the wheels are so unlike the wood spoke originals -- it has to do with road worthiness and competing with the modern auto on modern highways. Lower center of gravity equals greater safety; modern tires hug the pavement much better.

Another item collected by Bernie -- an old radio with working tubes that he bought at the monthly antique auction over on 6th Street. Complete to a tuning eye. Remember those?

Decor....

...and an old gasoline pump. (There's another of these over at the Goodwin Street Pharmacy, BTW.)

But I said that this was a Serendipitous Day, kalloo, kallay. Not only did I catch this robin with my telephoto lens but I happened upon a chainsaw garden gnome in process -- under wraps, unfortunately. But, to think that a chainsaw sculptor lives in my own neighborhood. Wow! Don't worry, I'll have pix one of these days.

Robins of Note: I just got a look at Helen's robins over at Albuquerque Daily Photo. I've got a lot of catching up to do to equal her pictures. Take a look.

Prima Ballerina

In this case, the prima refers to first-time. As you may recall, I went away this weekend to be a proper granny. This included taking pictures of how you turn a little 5-year-old into an absolute, ageless glamour-puss with a heavy touch of stage make-up. Scary!

Before we take off for the performance -- a proper ballet pose. With a difference. Tutu plus cowboy boots, a gift from Dad for a little one who is absolutely head over heels in love with horsies.

The theme for this year's recital -- the USA in its many variations, plus a touch of patriotism.

Grandchild's number was, like most, short. No time to get positioned away from that interfering head on the left!

I was impressed by the attention to detail with this production -- up to and including a place for proud fathers (or moms or grandparents) who forgot to buy posies for their dancing princesses (I may have counted as many as three male types up on the stage out of maybe 75 or more.)

Our little one with her flowers.

What to do about the slippers? Not meant for any surface but the dance floor; on the other hand, next fall when lessons start again, what size will she be wearing. But kicking off the shoes is standard operating procedure for her in any event.

An easy solution.

Rural Rust

So --do you suppose that this fine horse comes from the dragonworks down near Anthem? The style is somewhat similar, though the venue is quite different. Horse I caught this weekend outback in the high country.

This seems to have been a weekend for rustic rust yard decor. For example, this wagon down in Yarnell....

...this one time truck in the high country adorning the same property as...

...this relic that graces the entrance to the estate.

All by way of saying I'm home, I have lots of pictures and no time tonight! A wonderful weekend was had by all.

Burma Shave Not

Today was my long postponed birthday treat at the Buzzard's Roost down in Yarnell courtesy of the Pooh-shaped lady at The One Acre Wood. We took the long way with stops here and there to take all manner of pictures.

For instance, there's this set of Burma Shave style signs on the high road to Highland Pines...

...and, oops, it ends there, hanging in mid-air. There should be one more sign, to rhyme with #2, closing out the admonition (followed by the Burma Shave sign in the old days.) Ms. Pooh thinks there once was one, saying something like Gone to waste. If you've got a better line, do post it in the "comments" below!

The back sides of the signs also carry half a message, something about being firewise.

A quick look at the sponsor's signature sign suggests that quite some little time has passed since anyone thought about maintenance.

Despite the dryness, there were also a few roadside wildflowers at our stop. Above, lavender dakota verbenas, almost spent, and below, a pretty yellow mystery. Perhaps sweetbrush or perityle; I'll beg help from my AZ plants mailing list folk for a more solid ID.


And, just so you know why the folks in Highland Pines are concerned about wildfires -- look at the beautiful wooded area where they live!

Note: I may miss my daily post tomorrow -- it's ballet recital time up at OmegaMom's & I'll be out of town overnight. And would you believe I've been so busy tying up loose ends that I missed noting my one-year anniversary at Walking Prescott yesterday! Ah well. So it goes.

Be Prepared

If we were just emerging from one of the worst winters ever, I'd say that the owners of these 4WD vehicles had big plans for driving out in the bush. One might deduce that owner #1 (above) has been stuck in a swamp (not too likely) or quick sand (much more likely). He may be planning to drive along a river at the bottom of a canyon; just hook that cable to a stout juniper and pay your ride down the cliff. Or maybe he's a Search and Rescue team member. A lot of those out in the desert and mountains; they're needed, too.

Now, driver #2 makes it obvious that a muscular jack is what it takes to meet emergencies on the back roads. I wonder what his worst experience might have been.