2023 Earthwatch Arizona Expedition Part 2 - Other Creatures

While owls were the main focus of our expedition, there were plenty of other things to photograph as well. However, bird activity seemed to be down from last year, so I had to spend more time photographing other forms of wildlife such as mice and lizards. Apparently, some people caught glimpses of a Gila Monster (Heloderma suspectum) and a couple Black Bears (Ursus americanus) at one of the campgrounds, but unfortunately I didn’t see any, although we did get the opportunity to hear the screaming call of a Bobcat (Lynx rufus) on multiple occasions.

An exceptionally secretive bird, we were lucky to see the Montezuma Quail (Cyrtonyx montezumae) not once but three times on this trip! This pair was off the side of the road, while the other two times we only found the birds after they flushed, once after almost getting stepped on! Unlike most other US quail, the Montezuma Quail is typically monogamous, with pairs forming at the beginning of the breeding season in February and sticking together to help raise the young. This markedly differs from the other US quail as almost all practice varying forms of polygyny.

This year, hummingbird numbers were diminished, and this photo of a female Black-chinned Hummingbird (Archilochus alexandri) was one of my few serviceable shots of these tiny beasts. However, there was also a research group trying to trap and band hummers, and they had net traps set up above the feeders. The nets would go around the cage seen in this photo and would drop down once a hummingbird started feeding. Afterwards, a researcher would go up and try to catch the bird as it rapidly buzzed around its tiny mesh cage. This was not an easy task; it seemed that for every hummingbird that was caught, another escaped!

Here we have a Cordilleran Flycatcher (Empidonax occidentalis) perched in a Box Elder (Acer negundo). This bird is a very close relative to the Pacific-Slope Flycatcher (Empidonax difficilis) of the Pacific Coast. The two were only recently known as different subspecies of Western Flycatcher. In fact, they are near impossible to tell apart based off of looks. The only determining factors for identification are call and range, and even those aren’t always reliable as their songs are relatively similar and their ranges overlap in parts of the Northwest.

Another photo of the same bird.

Here we have another flycatcher in the Say’s Phoebe (Sayornis saya). Like the Black Phoebe (Sayornis nigricans), this bird prefers the western side of North America, although its range is a lot broader, spanning from Southern Mexico in nonbreeding season all the way to Alaska in breeding season. It lives basically anywhere with a somewhat arid or semi-arid habitat, which is most of the Western US.

Mice were a lot more common this year than last. They were pretty hard to see, but the very loud crunching noise they made as they moved through dead leaves and other plants quickly gave away their position. A couple times they had me fooled for people moving through the grass because of how loud they were. All the better for the owls.

An annoyed sunbathing lizard (Sceloporus sp.) staring at me from underneath a part of a bridge.

The rocky formations of the Chiricahua Mountains are best appreciated at sunset, when the sun gives the rock a reddish orange hue. Formed hundreds of millions of years ago, these mountains used to be covered by an ocean. Sediments from the sea would go on to be compressed into limestone and sandstone, and future volcanic events would later shape individual parts of the Chiricahua National Monument. Now, portions of the monument are covered in rocky spires, both large and small, some of which balance precariously just waiting to fall. The mountains and their formations are quite a beautiful sight, and I will be looking forward to returning to them next year, even if I did get 60+ mosquito bites.

This concludes my two-part series of my 2023 Earthwatch Arizona Trip. Come back later to see more blog posts!