Ruminations on Routines

There's something to be said about having a routine. It's a type of security blanket that provides structure to a daily lifestyle and allows one to safely let the mind wander because whatever you're physically doing is rote. How many dreams have been dreamt while brushing your teeth, pumping those legs on the elliptical, or jogging across the country?

Well, maybe not for Forrest!

Our COVID-19 global pandemic has tossed some major wrenches in people's routines. For many, this has been the last thing to worry about as the stress of lost jobs and income, separation from family, exhausting essential work, illness, and even death of loved ones entered our lives. I've heard somewhere that "we're all in the same hurricane, just in different boats," and that rings true to both Bruce and me. We're blessed to be able to play the role asked of us by others suffering much more deeply us: stay home, stay safe, don't add to the overall social burden. We've never felt so lucky to be living on a fixed income, and have vowed to be as low-key and unobtrusive as possible, offering and giving support as much as we can.

Now throw in having a 13-year-old moderately-arthritic dog, Carly, who needs a daily walk (albeit short; one mile tops). Normally, I walk the neighborhood with friends Julie and Glen. As Carly's arthritis has worsened, I would take Carly on a short walk first, and then meet up with Julie and Glen to take a longer walk. I quickly realized it was too easy to blow off Real Walk #2 after the Carly Meander #1 ("think I'm done, have fun on your walk!" texts to Julie were common).

Much easier to jump into the hot tub

One day in Julie and Glen's absence, I decided to try walking Woodland Lake Park, an oasis in the heart of Pinetop-Lakeside. A one-mile paved trail circles Woodland Lake, where families picnic, kids fish, joggers jog, walkers walk, and the mix of wildlife changes daily. Ospreys soar overhead, competing for the same fish swimming cormorants and shoreline anglers seek. Geese and ducks keep their guard up as they shuttle babies from shore to water, and birds like purple martins, Lewis's woodpeckers, western bluebirds, white-breasted nuthatches, and so many more fly within the trees and over the water, snapping up insects and seemingly flying for the sheer joy of it. I tend to avoid the park during the summer as it gets heavy on people, but it is a unique, delightful place. By going there this one time, I shook things up.

I found it enjoyable, peaceful, and relaxing. Two needs were met as well: 1) Carly gets a decent one-miler in with lots of sniffing and exploring; and 2) a longer walk for me is a given, since I'm there and can't rationalize leaving until I circle around a couple extra times (while Carly lounges in the shaded car). It was bit of a shake-up at first for all involved when I started going back a few times each week. My daily connection with Julie changed to every other day, an adjustment for both of us. Bruce, in charge of breakfast in our household, had to shift its timing to allow for my early departure to the park and also for my near two-hour absence from the house and our morning chores. So this change not only affected me -- and Carly -- but others as well. I guess it's a certainty that uncertain times force change in some form. This tiny example showed me that embracing change, which all of us involved did, is much easier than fighting it. It's good practice for whatever more serious changes might be in store for us in the future, right?

A typical sight! 

In the beginning, it was a bit tough to take the extra time to pack up the dog, her walking gear, little bottle of water, and other paraphernalia into the car, and drive 12 minutes (yes, I timed it) to the park, rather than simply walk out the front door and venture down our road. But I persevered, and now I find that I look forward to our morning park walks.

It's nice enough to see the "early" crowd of walkers on a regular basis, as we nod "hello" as we pass each other. However, the biggest reward is observing the near-daily changes in wildlife activity as late winter turned to spring, and spring to summer. One day there were 8 ospreys flying overhead, fishing. The next day, none. But then a few came back, and usually there are at least one or two every morning. One day there are 20 cormorants, the next day only a couple. Where'd the others go, I wonder? Migrating through? I located two Lewis's woodpecker nest cavities after seeing adults swoop in to feed their young. One time, a Lewis's was foraging along the muddy shoreline picking out bugs like a sandpiper; I had never seen that behavior before. And look at those goslings! They've grown so much in the last few days! A few weeks into this new routine, I brought my camera, took some photos, and I was hooked! Looking for that great picture forced me to sharpen my observation skills, and that's only enhanced my experiences at this wondrous piece of the world.

A Double-crested Cormorant, one of many, perch on a branch to dry off feathers.
Look at that blue eye!

Lewis's Woodpecker acting as expected

Lewis's Woodpecker acting unexpectedly like a sandpiper, picking out bugs in the water.

One of many ospreys waiting for the right moment to nab a fish.

I always enjoy watching both purple martins and violet-green swallows zoom into multiple holes in a standing dead tree out on the shoreline. I thought I got a decent photo of the most common, a violet-green swallow, only to find out when I worked on my photos at home, it was the less common tree swallow, cool! Killdeer skitter along the shoreline and great blue herons solemnly stare into the water no doubt mentally visualizing fish to appear. I happened to catch one heron that had caught an enormous bullhead; I have no idea how it would ever consume it. I now look forward to whatever each visit may bring. I've amassed a very nice portfolio of halfway-decent photos of Woodland Lake Park's wild creatures, and more can be found here.

Surprise, it's a tree swallow!

Hen mallard with ducklings.

Awwww, geez.

At least three Canada goose families have made Woodland part of their feeding grounds.
I'm very curious as to where they're nesting!

Great Blue Heron conjuring up a fish.

And one with an actual fish. How does that thing get down that skinny neck???

Killdeer, a plover that is named from its sharp "kill-DEER!" whistle.

Ah, got that purple iridescence on this Purple Martin.
So often these beauties just look black in photographs.

So is this new reality changing your routines? For the most part, I have opened my eyes and heart to absorb a different world. It's not scary, it's not stressful. It's just change. Sometimes, while there are benefits of sticking to a routine, there are also benefits to shaking things up. New sights and sounds expand the brain, and I for one am okay with that. I now wonder: what's next???

An American Coot feeds its fledgling

A backlit cormorant on a stump.

The balancing act of one of many drake Mallards.

One Eared Grebe has been hanging around at the lake for several days.
Its red eye and sideburns are challenging to capture in sunlight.

A Turkey Vulture taking a break from seeking dead things to eat.

A Lewis's Woodpecker takes off just as I clicked the shutter.

Not all beauty at the park lies in birds.
The red of these cactus blooms in this dry, high-elevation forest just pop!

No Social Distancing from Mother Nature!

During these Covid times, short trips into our surrounding forest with a friend or two provided some very nice mornings, as did enjoying the birds visiting and nesting in our back yard. A new routine of walking my dog Carly around our local Woodland Lake Park brought the added bonus of observing daily changes in bird life from winter to spring, seeing bald eagles hanging out in anticipation of stealing a fish from an osprey's talons to watching Lewis's woodpeckers nesting in snags right along the paved trail surrounding the lake, and so much more. Another local lake, Fool Hollow in Show Low, was a serene place to visit where my friend Ann and I tallied about 30 species in one morning (a highlight being two peregrine falcons sitting on a snag right outside our car as we disembarked, making us scrambling for our binoculars).

Fool Hollow Lake, Show Low, AZ

Osprey studying Fool Hollow for fish

Yellow-headed Blackbird, Woodland Lake Park

Mallard chicks, Woodland Lake Park

Killdeer, Woodland Lake Park

Eared Grebe, Woodland Lake Park

A report from a birding friend of a Common Black Hawk in the Show Low Creek drainage was surprising, and I happened to be kayaking in that very same place the following morning, where I located the bird and got grainy, lousy photo documentation of it. The Global Big Day saw my team verifying the return of the Gray Catbird to the South Fork of the Little Colorado River (LCR), where county maintenance cleared pretty much all the willow thickets along the access road a couple years ago. And as always, we found the American Dipper nesting under a bridge crossing the upper reaches of the West Fork of the LCR. I don't think any spring is complete until I see dippers flitting back and forth feeding their young along this most beautiful, bubbling creek.

Common Black-Hawk, Show Low Lake/Creek

Nesting Bald Eagle, Show Low Lake

Little Colorado River at South Fork

Dark-eyed Juncos selected a decorative, "faux" birdhouse on our potting bench just off our back deck as their first apartment, fledging three young over my May 3 birthday. An afternoon drive into our forest yielded a Red-naped Sapsucker as pretty much the only bird seen that afternoon. Most recently, a windy, cool morning found my troupe of three birders enjoying the empty Los Burros Campground (other than the volunteer campground host who was incredibly appreciative of having some solo time at this historic, peaceful piece of heaven). It's been fun and rewarding to head out when I can on several birding trips that helped move the time forward during this time of sheltering at home and social distancing. The birds seem to be doing just fine!

Nesting Dark-eyed Juncos, our back yard's potting bench

Western Bluebird, Los Burros Campground, Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests

Singing Yellow-rumped Warbler, Los Burros Campground, Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests

Red-faced Warbler, Los Burros Campground, Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests

Old forest ranger barn, Los Burros Campground, Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests

A dog who will soon need a bath, Los Burros Campground, Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests

The Inaugural Journey of the Carly Too

March 28-30, 2020, amidst the Corona virus pandemic, wondering if this was sane
Homolovi Ruins State Park near Winslow, AZ

Top Three Takeaways:

1. You have less space in which to escape the stinkbombs of an older dog's tooty-poots.

2. You join all other camper owners in singing the RV Owner's #1 Mantra: "We gotta get a better mattress."

3.  Despite the near-two-hour setup, the hassles of take-down, dumping, and general cleanup, camping in a trailer beats just about anything!

Bonus Takeaway:

4. Just because you named your trailer after your dog doesn't guarantee that will lead to your dog's sudden devotion to its namesake.

Our anticipated weekend at Homolovi State Park, reservations made long before Corona entered our reality, included star-gazing at the park's observatory; visiting a cultural exhibit on the ancestral Hopi people at the architecturally and historically delightful La Posada Hotel in Winslow; and a possible side trip to Grand Falls to see the renowned chocolate-brown cascade of the Little Colorado River. A week before we went, pretty much all three of these adventures were cancelled by the powers that be. We decided to go anyway, as getting outdoors while maintaining safe distances was still considered a good thing to do. Plus, we were really anxious to try out our RV. We'd been staring at our new toy, steadfastly parked in our driveway, long enough.

We left town around noon, joined by neighbors Jim and Cathy in their rig, and together caravanned the two hour drive to Homolovi State Park, just north of Winslow. The landscape here looked rather bleak; an expanse of Mormon tea, rabbit brush, and sand was only broken by rocky outcroppings and the park's two paved roads. While the visitor center was closed, there were personnel curating the reserved camping spots, answering questions, providing maps and information, and generally keeping the place tidy.

Homolovi State Park Campground

Finding our spots, the set-up began. We decided to time ourselves just for kicks to see how long it would take us from arrival to mixing the first cocktail. The 90-minute set-up time ended up including wrangling with the trailer hitch, as the ball somehow got jammed and wouldn't separate from the hitch. A hammer here, a screwdriver there, and the truck and trailer were freed from each other. We figured our setup took a net time of about an hour. Hopefully, we'll continue to beat that record every time we take out the Carly Too.

Set up and ready to go!

Speaking of Carly, this old dog really didn't seem to want to learn a new trick. We think that despite the pretty darn good stability of the trailer, there was enough wobbly-woo when two large adults walked around inside it to make it shaky enough to unnerve our girl. We didn't want her to go down the narrow steps on her own, either, so it became protocol to lift her in and out of the camper. She got better, and hopefully that will continue -- but it was not making her very happy. Indeed, the leash better be on and the dog under our control when we wanted to her get back in; she was inclined to bolt if we gestured to her to enter that big, wobbly box.

Thanks, I'll stay right here.

By late afternoon, happy hour commenced, and our other friends Bob and Moira made their appearance, driving up from Phoenix. They obviously had their routine pretty down pat, as it didn't take them very long to join us.

Settling in, we took a look around the campground, commenting on the pros and cons of a wide variety of rigs, and noticing that each camping spot had one little tree (still under winter dormancy), and then.....sand and scrubby bushes. But really, it was clean, well-built, and frankly all one could ask for.

We all chatted amiably while the sun set off to our side. Arizona has spectacular sunsets, this one was no exception. We decided since no activities were scheduled to structure the next day, our one full day here, we'd be able to leisurely explore the park's historical sites.

Homolovi Ruins State Park

Overview from the park's brochure: In the high grassland of 14th-century northern Arizona, an ancient people found a home along the Little Colorado River. These people, the Hisat'sinom (known to archaeologists -- and most of us -- as the Anasazi), paused in their migrations to till the rich floodplain and sandy slopes found here before continuing north to join people already living on the mesas to the north, people who today are known as the Hopi.

The Little Colorado River, surrounded by non-native tamarisk.
Not the lush river valley of cottonwoods and willows these ancient people would have seen....

The Hopi people of today still consider Homolovi part of their homeland, making pilgrimages to these sites, renewing the ties of the people with the land. This park, with support by the Hopi, was established in 1986, and serves as a center of research for the late migration period of the Hopi from the 1200s to the late 1300s.

Homolovi means "place of the little hills." Evident throughout the park are, indeed, small hills and outcroppings that break up the largely flat terrain. Two main ruins sites, Homolovi I and Homolovi II,  were established on the tops of two of these hills, and offer a wide viewpoint of both the Little Colorado River and surrounding lands. Several other smaller prehistorical sites are sprinkled throughout the park, and there is one historic cemetery, all that remains from the town of Sunset, the first Mormon settlement along the Little Colorado River. Each site includes interpretive signage, trails, and ample opportunity to explore on one's own. From most vantage spots, the San Francisco Peaks 60 miles away popped into view, covered in recent snow, and were a stark contrast to the deep blue sky.

Atop a hill covered with structural ruins, the San Francisco Peaks are seen in the distance.
The Hopi call them Nuvatukya'ovi, believing these peaks were the home of
their katsina, or kachina, spirits, who guided their lives.

Both Homolovi I and II each contain an estimated 1,000+ rooms as living quarters, as well as ceremonial kivas and other structures (i.e. storage facilities). It is quite something to be able to have peace and quiet as you stand among 700+ year-old ruins, contemplating the timeline of human life, gazing at broken pieces of pottery that previous visitors have laid out on rocks, and bonding with the spirits of people you can plainly see had a sense of artistry, a compelling need to make their lives beautiful, to create food and security, and to give thanks to their own spirits and gods.

We walked from the campground to Homolovi I, and agreed while walking back that the spring winds that had picked up that afternoon were just a bit too egregious to enjoy Homolovi II at the northern tip of the park. It was unanimous that a nap, instead, was most desirable, and we would meet up afterwards for a late lunch and then determine just what we wanted to do after that.

I took out my new electric spinning wheel and basked in the sun while doing a bit of spinning until I was fed up with the wind. I goaded Carly into the Carly Too, knitted a bit, soothing Carly until she fell asleep, and finally went into my own slumber.

Waking up to the sounds of Bruce and Jim getting the grill prepared for burgers and brats, we lunched and then Jim, Cathy, and I walked the near two miles from the campground to the Sunset Cemetery, and returned back to our campsites just in time for cocktail hour. Bob and Moira had struck out on their own after our morning walk to Homolovi I, and they too returned to join us.

The Sunset Cemetery, the only remains from the first
Mormon settlement along the Little Colorado River (and Arizona for that matter).
The youngest buried here was three months old, the oldest about 52 years old.
A very tough existence.

The morning of our departure, we had a leisurely breakfast, prepared the camper for its trip home, but took a bit of time out to drive to Homolovi II, exploring that 1,100-room site that had a fully excavated ceremonial room, more potsherds lying out and about, and a few more intact walls than yesterday's Homolovi I.

Heading home, we reflected on our first trip. So far, all went well other than getting the trailer hitch stuck; a few items we wished we'd brought were put on a list for next time, and upon pulling into our driveway, we were stunned to be faced with Takeaway #5: Make sure you lock the trailer door or it'll open and flop back and forth while driving down an interstate. Fortunately, no damage was done* and while our next trip is completely unknown as of yet (April plans cancelled....dang these pandemics), we can't wait to get back on the road!

*OK OK it was my fault. This was the second, unused door that I popped open to poke my head out to say hello to our friends....and then neglected to LOCK it back in place.