Trees are Sanctuaries

Looking at the Past

Trees are Sanctuaries © 2012 Bo Mackison

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. ~ Herman Hesse

Trees Are Sanctuaries

1806, The People Build the Church

They make the brick, kiln the lime, raise the walls, lay the roof,
paint murals and sacristy ornamentation, build niches for the statues of the Saints.
They clear the land, build the fences, plant corn and wheat,
and from the priests’ cache of pods and seeds, they plant and then tend
fruit orchards, nut trees, and olive trees.
They learn the ways of the missionaries,
they marry, raise children, care for their sick, weep for their dying, bury their dead.

1827, Weary, Ill, and Wary of Raiding Enemies

Many of the People wrap the statuary in leathery strips of yucca,
the bundled saints cradled like newborn babes
protected from summer’s heat, shifting winds, monsoon thunderstorms,
from damage to their wooden limbs or chipped painted robes or eyes of porcelain marbles.
They walk north, leave the Tumacacori Mountains,
settle in another valley with another priest and another church.

1848, Tumacacori Mission, Deserted in the Desert.

No missionary priest leads his people, crucifix in hand,
his carved cross held high, a silhouette in the blue bowl of sky.
No one gives signal to the last few of the Desert People
who now abandon their homes, possessions, crops;
abandon their church, stacked bricks of adobe, and
precious, the limestone wash, white like angels’ wings;
now the church is an apparition towering amidst the desert grasses, agave, mesquite,
standing in the foreground of the mountains.

2012, A View through the Window

Open to the cool desert nights,
no roof for protection, no doors.
Only the ruins remain,  maintained as ruins.
But the window opening frames the cottonwoods, green and tall,
lining the Santa Cruz River, growing.
They hold my fascination. When I walk to the river,
they form the arched roof over my head,
provide a spongy carpet of decaying leaves under my feet.
Wisps of white cottony fluff, seeds for the future, drift on the southwest breeze.

The trees are the sanctuaries.

——————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. There are also days Bo wanders through Mission ruins, thinks of days long past, and writes poetry.

Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge

Buenos Aires Grassland

Buenos Aires Grassland © 2012 Bo Mackison

Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge in southern Arizona is 118,000 acres of grassland, mountain ranges in the background, riparian corridors rippling through the land. The habitat, a semi-arid grassland, is land of the masked bobwhite quail and pronghorn antelope, both of which are being re-introduced in the region. Grasses once filled the Altar Valley, and are now maintained and restored by prescribed burns.

The Pleasures of Simplicity

The Pleasures of Simplicity © 2012 Bo Mackison

In the 1800s, Altar valley was open grassland. Pronghorns had free range, falcons and hawks filled the air with their swooping, gliding, and soaring.  Mexican wolves, black bears and jaguars roamed in the grasses, traveling the corridors between the mountain ranges.

Poppies at Buenos Aires NWR

Poppies at Buenos Aires NWR © 2012 Bo Mackison

Then the Valley began filling with small towns and ranches in the 1860s, and the delicate balance maintaining the ecosystems gradually suffered. As ranchers expanded and grazing bared much the grasslands and exposed the land to the monsoon rains, erosion of the barren soils quickly followed.

With the grass gone and natural fires suppressed, mesquite gained a foothold. The grassland no longer supported the masked bobwhite quail or aplomado falcon. Pronghorn, wolves, bear, and jaguar were hunted or trapped.  Lehmann’s lovegrass, a non-Native grass, was introduced in the 1970s to help stop erosion. But this poor substitute for native grasses and now considered an invasive species, did nothing of benefit.

 Spring in Arivaca Cienega

Spring in Arivaca Cienega © 2012 Bo Mackison

Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge was established in 1982 to re-establish the grasslands habitat and protect the Arivaca Cienga ( spring fed marshy area) and the Arivaca Creek and its watershed, and important resource for the several hundreds of kinds of birds that either live in the region, migrate through, or winter over.

The area is again lush with grasses. The wildflowers are abundant — Mexican poppies turn areas golden with bright color, purple bunches of Verbena add contrast.

A beautiful place, an important resource to protect and preserve.

—————-

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. There are days Bo wanders the roads and imagines pronghorn ranging, wild and free.

Hiking the Loop at Arivaca Cienega

Cienega Cootonwood

Cienega Cottonwood © 2012 Bo Mackison

I spent several hours hiking in the Arivaca Cienega in the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Preserve in southern Arizona. To be honest it wasn’t as much hiking as walking on a lovely mix of boardwalk over the wetlands and smoothed trails on the drier parts of the trail.

Some of the beauties of this trail are: it is of a decent length – just over a mile; it heads into country one cannot see from any road; and it is accessible for everyone — the path can accommodate wheelchairs and strollers. There are a also at least a dozen welcoming benches along the trail, so there is always a nearby place for a “sit and ponder” if one isn’t watching the clock.

The cienega is prime habitat for birds (and other wildlife), especially during migrations, but I am not much of a birder. I saw quite a few species, but only recognized the woodpeckers and the sparrows.

Spring Fed Cienega

Spring Fed Cienega © 2012 Bo Mackison

The cienega, which is defined as a semi-desert grassland, has a spring fed riparian area. There are many cottonwoods, some aged giants, growing near the wetlands. When I examined the grasses, I was surprised to see grasses that were similar to the grasses in the prairies in Wisconsin, and I wonder how closely they were related. (Something to research some other time.)

I sat on the first bench I came upon.  I am working on adding a new habit to my daily walk and I am finding it more difficult than I imagined! I find a bench, the first bench I come to that is in a good location to get the feel of where I am. That’s the easier part. The harder part is that I try to sit on the bench and stay fully absorbed in the environment while using all my senses. The hardest part is that I try to sit there, mindfully, for a full fifteen minutes.

If it sounds easy, try it.

I am eager to see what is on the path ahead, and my mind wanders to the immediate future instead of staying in the present. The first time I tried my fifteen minute exercise, I checked the time after 5 minutes, certain that I had gone over my time. Not wanting to pull out my cell phone and check the time every five minutes, I’veve begun to bring a small office timer with me. It is small and unobtrusive. I can glance down and see how much of my quarter hour is left as it tells the time in a pie shaped wedge that slides closed slowly until it disappears. Then the time is over.

Arivaca Cienega

Small Pool at Arivaca Cienega © 2012 Bo Mackison

It was a cool, breezy afternoon by desert standards and when I closed my eyes, it was a wonderful sensory experience as I  concentrated on my sense of touch and hearing.  I first enjoyed the warming sun on my face. Then I listened to the rhythms of the wind.

The breeze would begin quietly, a mere rustle of the grasses, then build to a crescendo sounding much like a distant train rumbling through the preserve, and finally the rustling would calm until it was nearly silent again. Except for the chirping and chattering of the birds, this small oasis was quiet. No traffic noise. Only a few other visitors and they were all on different parts of the trail.

I am working on a photo project that explores the concept solitude and so I find the fifteen minute quiet time an invaluable asset to get me in the right mindset for photographing this subject.

*** I would be remiss if I did not mention that there is a park closure along the US/Mexican border. It is a small part of the park, and is suitably marked and patrolled by security. The order to close this area went into effect in 2006 and there have been no recent problems, to my knowledge. The closure notice can be found on Buenos Aires NWR site — it is a PDF, found on the bottom right of the page. It is recommended that visitors read the bulletin before exploring the more remote areas.

—————-

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is doing a great deal of slow photography during her time in Arizona, including this slow photo shoot she did at the cienega. There are more photographs of Arivaca to post., but she is also slowly processing . . .