Essence of Place — Brown Mountain in the Sonoran Desert

Exploring Brown Mountain © 2014 Bo Mackison

Here are limitless views of desert vegetation, strange giant cacti forms, rock formations uprising sharply into forms and craggy peaks almost unreal to strangers and ever fascinating in the changing flood of desert light. ~ C. B. Brown

For several years, I thought Brown Mountain was named for its predominately reddish-brown rocky face, a face studded with whiskers of toothpick saguaro cacti. Then I researched the origins of Brown Mountain, a small rounded mountain located in the Sonoran Desert in Tucson Mountain Park, just west of Tucson Arizona, and discovered it was named in honor of C. B. Brown (1889-1979) the foremost advocate for keeping the Tucson Mountain region a natural space.

Under Brown’s guidance and continued efforts, the Tucson Mountain region was closed to mining and homesteading in 1926, and preserved in its natural desert state for the enjoyment of all.

Cactus Arms © 2014 Bo Mackison

The scenic qualities, luxuriance and variety of desert flora, abundance of wild life, and historical romance of the land are accepted material bits. ~ C. B. Brown

On Top of Brown Mountain

On Top of Brown Mountain © 2014 Bo Mackison

More fascinating is the intangible charm and spell of the desert region where the haze of the mountain ranges meet the blue of the sky and the desert impressive in its cloak of utter silence awaits the nature lover. ~ C. B. Brown

The Brown Mountain Trail has trail heads at both the Brown Mountain Picnic Area and the Juan Baptiste Picnic Area. It’s a five-mile hike, up, around, and back, with distant vistas at every turn. The views are especially great considering the minimal effort required to reach the peak.

The hike covers undulating ridges with views of Tucson Mountains and distant views of The Santa Ritas, Kitt Peak and other far away mountain ranges. Baboquivari, the sacred peak of the Tohono O’odham Nation and traditional home of I’itoi, the creator-god of the land, can be seen on a clear day.

There is a huge diversity of flora and fauna, easily a cross-section of what is found in the nearby region.

CCC Shelter in Brown Mountain Picnic Area © 2014 Bo Mackison

No portrait of the Brown Mountain area would be complete without a photograph of the historical picnic area built by the Citizen Conservation Corps in the 1930s. You might notice a camera pack, a hiking stick, and a pile of books on the concrete table. This is my office away from my office – I can often be found working here when the desert sun works its magic and calls me to the desert.

Brittlebush © 2014 Bo Mackison

Recent rain has brought yellow and green to the desert floor. Most of the common flowers are yellow — brittle-bush, desert marigold, acaia, mesquite, and many more.

Mesquite Near Brown Mountain © 2014 Bo Mackison

And when the rains come, the trees, often without leaves in the more arid times, sprout tiny specks of leaves. From a distance the trees show lovely and soft green forms.

Sonoran Desert in Brown Mountain © 2014 Bo Mackison

I am no longer surprised at the diversity of plants, cacti, and trees I see in the Sonoran Desert, how they are so openly spaced in order to provide each plant with needed rain and nutrients from the ground, but I am often taken aback by how “manicured” the desert often seems — as if a landscape gardener comes out early every day to rake the rocks, put all in place.

Possibility

Tumbleweed in Barbed Wire Fence

Tumbleweed Fence © 2013 Bo Mackison

Winds that once blew free,
now scatters dust to the sky.
~ lyrics from The Cowboy, by Randy Newman

Wandering, I am lost.

I speed along the washboard dirt road, skimming its ridges,
Don’t jar me, bumping along dips and rises.

Earth so dry, wild and unsettled winds sweep orange dust into roiling vortexes,
chase tumbleweeds across the grasslands.

Hello, tumbleweeds, caught in the barbs and fence lines,
impaled on gnarled mesquite.

Globes of sun-bleached gold, you can no longer travel on wind’s breath,
whipping forces crumble your desiccated skeletons.

Tumbleweeds, no more wandering and skittering across this land.
I know how it feels to be trapped, too, unable to roll away.

Ominous clouds, they are possibility.
Desert rain is never a promise, yet
when seeds swell with moisture, they open.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is exploring creative photography and emotion in a  series called Desert Lines – a combination of visual lines and written lines.

Twisted Trees – The Desert Mesquite

Twisted Tree Grove

Tree Grove ©2012 Bo Mackison

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way.  Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity, and some scarce see Nature at all.  But to the eyes of the man of imagination, Nature is Imagination itself.” ~ William Blake, 1799

Mesquite trees are an Arizona symbol – tough, adapted to desert living with a root system that grows deep into the earth. A tap-root can extend as far as 150 feet into the ground in search of moisture.

They bring flowers to the desert, first in spring and then again after the monsoons, and provide nectar for bees which then produce a sweet mesquite honey. The seeds are ground into flour in many desert cultures, a practice that has lasted for centuries, and continues to this day.

The mesquite improves the soil in which it grows, as it is a nitrogen stabilizer. A natural fertilizer.

The grove of trees in the above photograph grows next to the mission church at Tumacacori National Historic Park.

They may not be tall and stately like the California Redwood, nor provide a spectacular display of autumnal color like the Eastern and Midwest hardwoods, but there is a fascination with the gnarled, sharply angled branches extending from the mesquite’s thick trunk.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.

Mesquite in Bloom

Mesquite in Bloom

Mesquite in Bloom © 2012 Bo Mackison

The more you actively look, the more the action will become intuitive and natural, subconscious and effortless. With practice your eye will be intuitively and subconsciously drawn to light and the light will be drawn to your eye. ~ Wayne Rowe

In Arizona, the trees stand bare branched much of the winter. As the spring warms and a bit of rain falls, the mesquite gets a few leaves, as if a film of green gauze was twisted about the branches.

And then suddenly, almost as if a mystical being tapped all the trees with a magical wand, the trees burst forth in bright yellow. The flowers are almost like yellow fuzz, and when the southwestern winds start to blow, the yellow bits are blown from the branches and seem to dance along the sidewalks and streets.

Magical mesquites?

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona . . . and enjoying the dance of the yellow mesquite.