Tag: Cochise County

Shard.

Pottery shard at San Pedro House, Cochise County, Arizona. I did not find this in situ. I suspect it is a bit of Hohokam redware pottery. Its fired finish included tiny bits of pulverized mica that gave it a pleasing sparkle. 

Yes, the skies here are often that color blue. And discouraging words are seldom

―if ever―

heard. For that you’ve gotta go into town.

Off the main trail at San Pedro House I noticed an old fence post covered with bits of pottery and debitage. It’s a curious collection. While the pieces probably never held much archaeological value, now that they have been removed from the spot where they were found, they have no historic value at all. I think I understand the impulse to collect. When I’m walking I always think its better to move a little pottery shard than to crush it underfoot. But better still to leave it in situ, to step over or walk around, though I’ve been on paths that were so littered with pottery it was impossible. When I was a boy, walking on private property, every bit would have gone straight to my pockets, to show off to my grandfather, or to bring to school. Most of my hikes these days are on public lands, where such heritage pilfering is explicitly illegal.    

I made a new friend on my hike at San Pedro House this afternoon. This is Belle of Bisbee, Arizona. As soon as she realized that I was casting a basset hound- sized shadow, she flopped down in the shade I was making, and kept adjusting herself to stay out of the sun every time I moved a bit. Even in January, direct sun can be too much, too bright, too hot this far south.

While I chatted with her owner, Mary Anne, I learned that like me, Belle is fighting cancer. Though I am at a stage where I can confidently call myself a cancer survivor whose fight is largely done, Belle is in the early days of her battle. Mary Anne told me Belle had her first radiation treatments just two weeks ago; this was her first day back on the trails.

A lot of folks I know who are battling cancer or have brawled with it in the past rely on a mantra, uttered every day, a way to speak out into the world belief that cancer is not in charge. So today I taught it to Belle. I gave her pats and told her, “Fuck cancer, Belle.” Fuck cancer you beautiful, bewildered, champion, sweetheart of a dog. Sometimes the universe just needs to be told.  

I drove an hour yesterday for a morning of birding, only to find this fellow perched high in a sycamore over my parking spot when I returned home. 

He’s not presenting all of the field marks I could hope for, but I think this is a youngling red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis), whose eyes and breast feathers will keep darkening as he matures. Your ID suggestions and corrections are always welcome.