Lemonade and Izze – Living in the Moment

Lemonade and Izze

Lemonade and Izze © 2012 Bo Mackison

A glass of lemonade and a cold bottle of Pomegranate Izze. Living in the moment — ahhh!

So this photograph of two beverages is the perfect reminder to live in the moment. It’s not every day I get to spend a couple of hours with my younger daughter – the youngest of my three kids – sitting in an outdoor cafe in Bisbee, Arizona, sipping freshly squeezed lemonade – the puckery kind – and a Pomegranate Izze. Munching on chorizo and cabbage burritos. Laughing and telling snippets of life stories – some recent, some a decade old, some two decades old. Walking along the up and down sidewalks of Bisbee Arizona, peering at the window displays of the shops and galleries, occasionally wandering through a gallery, oohing and aahing over a painting or a sculpture. So much talent! Admiring the many buildings – schools, homes, businesses – many perched in precarious positions against the mountains.

At one point our conversation drifted to Manda’s propensity for conversation when she was a toddler and preschooler. She loved nothing more than to carry on a  lengthy conversation about any topic. She was, and still is, one of the most inquisitive people I know. We played a game for several years, one I devised so that I could get some work done while still entertaining my young conversationalist. When we were talking about it the other day, we both wondered how much this game influenced Manda’s education and the way she thinks and comes up with answers.

We played our game throughout the day. It would start simply enough.

I would make an observation. “Look, the first robin of the season. The robins are back.”

My then three-year-old would say, “Where do they come back from?”

I would offer a simple explanation. “They don’t like the cold weather and snow, so they go to a warmer place during winter.”

Manda would look at me as if I had just told her the biggest whopper ever heard by a three-year old.

So I would counter offer. “Well, what do you think happens to the robins?”

And this is where the fun would begin. Looking back, I wish I had written more of her answers in my journal. Only a few were documented.  Some of her conclusions were hysterical, some were thoughtful, some were fanciful, but they all displayed a certain ability to think and be creative. What an amazing thing, yes?

Here are a few lines I once wrote about the return of the robins. After I gave her the straight answer, I would ask Manda is she could think of any other answers. She would give me one and then another, and another. The game continued until she ran out of answers or lost interest.All answers were acceptable.

“The robins go down in the holes with the rabbits.”

‘The robins fly to Grandma’s ( 300 miles south and considerably warmer) and live in her attic.”

“The robins sleep under my bed and they are very, very quiet. I only hear them when they fight.”

“The robins play hide and seek and you don’t see them. I know where they hide.”

And on and on.

Then she would go off and play. That is, until we began the next question and answer game.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. Visits from her family are always appreciated. 🙂

A Pretty Fence is Still a Fence

Grill Work

A Pretty Fence is Still a Fence © 2012 Bo Mackison

Fear is the highest fence. ~ Dudley Nichols

There was a time I thought that fences kept people safe, kept gardens safe from critters, kept farm animals safe from cars speeding on the highways that cut through on their way to someplace important.

Then I listened to a woman who had moved from Manhattan to a rural area in southeast Arizona. She was discussing the cussedness of birds who remained determined to feed from her green garden despite the wire fences she had installed around the garden perimeter, despite the netting she had arched from the top of the fence, like a roof, over her precious vegetables. I turned toward the art in the gallery so she didn’t see me smiling broadly as she told of the thieving Gambel’s Quails and Roadrunners who still managed to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner, and frequent snacks from her garden.

I had a hard time imagining the birds’ antics as she described them. The quails could fly upwards like a helicopter, then squeeze between the wire fence and the netting, and drop gently into the midst of her luscious greens. She described how the roadrunners were the sneakiest trespassers of all the birds, but their antics to get into this Fort Knox equivalent of a vegetable garden was far beyond my understanding. However, the ex-Manhattan-stock-broker-turned-country-vegetable-gardener, apparently knew the secrets of those ransacking roadrunners who watched her from mid-garden as they nibbled their lunch, watched until she was just close enough with her broom. Then they disappeared.

I do wish I had been better able to follow the story, because the parts I really wanted to understand — all the escapes — were told with few details. I don’t know how these industrious and obviously intelligent birds had a passport to the woman’s private garden. But they did.

Was it that they had no fear? Just determination and a rudimentary plan?

There are few fences on the open range, even when roads pass through. There are cautionary signs — “Range Animals. Stay Aware.” There are no signs for the cattle, obviously, and yet I seldom see one on the back roads I travel. They are in the thorn scrub and grasslands, eating whatever they can find. Apparently they are usually smart enough to understand there is little food to be found on dirt roads. I have seen cattle amble across a road, but not too many walk on the roads as their means of transportation. Better to walk amidst the grasses and eat while cruising along. Seems these cattle don’t need fences to keep them safe from cars. Perhaps drivers are sensible enough to realize that a several hundred pound animal can inflict costly damage on vehicles.

So, perhaps I don’t need those fences I erect around myself to keep me safe, either. It feels better to have “free range” and not stay cooped up in what I thought was a safe place. After all, even surrounded by the best of fences, those that want to get in — quails and roadrunners, for example — have their ways.

And now back to the quote that started me thinking about fences on this rainy-snowy morning in southern Arizona.

Fear is the highest fence. ~ Dudley Nichols

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. Lately she has spent some time thinking about fencing creatures in and fencing creatures out. All kinds of creatures — four legged, two legged, with wings…

A Drive through Box Canyon, Sky Island View

Open Space

Open Space © 2012 Bo Mackison

The Box Canyon Road passes through the norhthern part of Madera Canyon from Arizona Highway 83, north of Sonoita, to White House Canyon Road, near the entrance to the Madera Canyon Recreation Area. This road was built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps which was also responsible for building some of the original roads in Madera Canyon, and the original campgrounds, bridges and hiking trails.

The road passes through range land for several miles,. Horses are grazing behind secure fencing and cattle are both grazing on the ranch land and wandering on the roads. (Sorry – no pic. I was driving, well, skirting around cows in the middle of the road!)

Sky Island Layers

Sky Island Layers © 2012 Bo Mackison

The road eventually hugs the mountain side and climbs upward, offering views of the layers of sky island habitats. Here, a riparian corridor including sycamores and cottonwoods a leafy green near the river bed, though the river is dry. In the higher elevations, a mixture of evergreen oaks, Alligator junipers and Pinions are in the oak-pine woodland. The furthest peaks are covered with Douglas fir, Gambel oaks, maples in the middle elevations,  white fir and a few aspens at the highest elevations.

Road, Vintage CCC

Road through the Canyon, Vintage CCC © 2012 Bo Mackison

The dirt road clings rather snugly to the rising topography, but the views are beautiful. If you want to get a good look at the scenery and snap a few photos, one either needs to stop frequently — there are a few wide spots, but otherwise the road is lightly traveled and visibility is good. I could always see if cars or trucks were driving towards me or following me, so I often stopped mid-road, but I was VERY careful! Another option, and the one I recommend, is having both a driver and a passenger/photographer so that the roles are well defined.

If you look far in the distance, in the valley between the Santa Ritas, one are looking at Green Vally and Continental , Arizona, small towns south of Tucson, and beyond the towns, on a very clear day, you can make out eh multiple observatories on Kitt Peak, 70 miles away.

Rocky Seat

Rocky Seat, Long View © 2012 Bo Mackison

I love the rippling habitats of the sky islands. I sat on this rock formation for awhile, very comfy, and took a few notes, snoozed a few minutes — it was so warm and I swear the sun sang me a sweet sunny lullabye — and did a few sketches. I am practicing a few plein air techniques with some basic supplies — pencils, colored pencils and watercolors, but they are definitely in the practice stage at this point.

Green Lichen on Rocks

Green Lichen Colony © 2012 Bo Mackison

These rocks, and many of the rocks throughout the sky islands in southern Arizona and northern Sonora, Mexico, are covered with a lime green living crust called lichen. Lichen is a multiorganism, part fungus, part either green algae or blue-green algae. (The fungus is the house; the algae provides the nutrients. Lichen can grow in the most hostile places, including bare rock in cold places.

The amazing thing about lichen is that it is not scientifically classified as either a plant nor an animal. DNA analysis shows lichen is very different from a fungal make-up, which is in the animal kingdom, but it is also very different from the algae make-up which belongs to the Bacteria kingdom.A sort-of combination of animal-bacteria, but not a plant.

I guess lichen has a kingdom all its own.

See the Road Constructed by the CCC?

See the Road Constructed by the CCC? © 2012 Bo Mackison

On the way out of the canyon, I crossed a bridge, and was able to take this photograph of a dry rocky wash which appears to now be the home of lots of prickly pear (more on the edges, not in the middle sandier area.)

Out of the Mountains

Coming Out of the Mountains © 2012 Bo Mackison

And leaving the mountain pass, I came out into another thorn scrub with quite a few prickly pears, yucca, and barrel cacti spread amidst the mesquite. The cattle guards appeared on the road again and I noticed signs for open range. I didn’t see any roaming cattle on the west side of the pass, but they had been on the road earlier in the day.

 

How Many Habitats can you See?

How Many Habitats Can You See? © 2012 Bo Mackison

And finally, I reach the road that leads away from the Santa Ritas. I pulled off on the side of the grasslands, and took one last photograph of the Santa Rita Mountain Range and its highest mountain, Mount Wrightson (9453 feet).

I think it takes me about twice as long to take the shortcut through the mountain pass compared to taking Arizona Highway 83 north to Interstate 10 West, drive through Tucson, and then take Interstate 19 south to Madera Canyon. But the shorter drive, though interesting and with great views at times, just can;t compare to a mountain pass drive through the Santa Rita Wilderness. (And a some ranch lands at the beginning and end — just to add a bit more variety, I suppose…)

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. There are days the wanderlust bug bites Bo and then she wanders the roads to see what she can see.

Reflections on Colors and Shapes

Reflections in Two Windows

Reflections in Two Window - Spring © 2012

I found I could say things with colors and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way — things I had no words for. ~ Georgia O’Keeffe

Two windows — one with a gauzy white curtain, and the other, small, squared off, sealed off with rough laid blocks. Yet the casement is painted in happy colors, bright pink, deep blue. Hand-painted curlicues, curly Cs with a freshness,  a surety, a promise of decorations and celebrations.  Even life is represented in the greens of the aloe and the tree branches, dense with life sustaining yellow buds.

An open window, a closed window, bright colors, artistic flair, living things, the burst of spring. Life is full.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. She visited Tombstone a few days ago, town of Western lore, cowboys, and gunfights, and this is what she photographed. Details.

Organ Pipe Cactus

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument
Organ Pipe Cactus © 2012 Bo Mackison

Transparent and intangible as sunlight, yet always and everywhere present, [the desert] lures a man on and on, from the red-walled canyons to the smoke-blue ranges beyond, in a futile but fascinating quest for the great, unimaginable treasure which the desert seems to promise. Once caught by this golden lure you become a prospector for life. ~ Edward Abbey

The organ pipe cactus shares this mountainside with saguaros, mesquite, and blooming brittlebush. The organ pipe has many arms which appear to come from a low-to-the-ground center and resembles a pipe organ, its namesake. Some of the largest specimens grow to twenty-five feet, but most of the cacti I saw at Organ Pipe National Monument were in the twelve to eighteen feet range.

Organ Pipe Cactus and Desert Marigold

Organ Pipe Cactus © 2012 Bo Mackison

Although the lucky organ pipes that make it through their first years become giants in the Sonoran Desert, they are a bit on the slow side when they are getting started. In the wild, an organ pipe is only four inches high when it celebrates its eighth birthday. A three foot tall cactus will be about twenty years old, and it will finally reach an adult height of twenty feet when it is forty five or fifty years old.

Organ Pipe Cactus grow in Sonora, Mexico and a few are seen in the Tucson area, but the majority of Organ Pipe Cacti that grow in the United States are in or very near the monument. These cacti are afforded little protection in Mexico, so it is vital that we remain committed to maintaining this region for the protection of this unique cactus.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Love the organ pipe cactus and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. What an amazing place!