I decided on Saturday afternoon to go out and explore the big city. I am in no way being facetious here. Phoenix is unbelievably large. If you ever truly want to appreciate the magnitude of it, ride the light rail from the Mesa stop into city center with a full bladder. Phoenix stretches on for mile upon annoying mile of strip mall and housing development in every direction. Only the occasional glimpse of the mountains on the horizon give you any indication that it ever stops. The public transportation is actually surprisingly good for a fledgling system the buses run fairly regularly and are usually on time. The light rail is clean and easy to use. The drivers have been uniformly helpful and friendly. The trouble is that there is only one line on the rail and vast areas remain uncovered by bus service, or at least I believe there is. Whoever designed the schedules had many fine ideas, but ease of use and legibility weren’t high on their list of priorities. By the time I figured out how to get where I wanted to go and actually rode there, all of the museums were closed. Meandering through the downtown area seemed like a good substitute plan until I actually tried it. Downtown Phoenix was not designed for pedestrian traffic. Aside from a few restaurants (mostly closed) there were no shop front businesses. I am told that there are a few historical points of interest, but it is inadvisable to walk between them with out a reliable guide, three native bearers and a week’s worth of food and water. I asked an attendant in one of the hotels where the nearest bookshop was so that I might continue my thus far fruitless hunt for “Birds of Central America”. Following a brief consultation with his colleague, he announced that it was six miles away, and not accessible by public transport. He offered to call me a cab. I declined and moodily wandered the city for a few hours in the vain hope that a bookshop would magically appear. It did not. I then rode the train back towards Mesa, and caught the first bus that would connect to Gilbert street. Upon reaching Gilbert , and translating the timetable from it’s original Sanskrit, I discovered that the bus I needed stopped running an hour ago. This presented me with the splendid unparalleled opportunity to take a five mile walking tour of scenic suburban Mesa after dark.
Sunday morning brought with it yet more rain. I don’t wish to complain. I really do enjoy a good rain. I just would like to point out to those responsible that having it rain so frequently is really no way to run a desert. After a quick swim down to the shops, the weather cleared up enough to contemplate a trip to the zoo. Phoenix Zoo is located in a park area that almost lets you forget you are within city limits. Like the Bronx Zoo, San Diego or Washington D.C., Phoenix is an admirable modern facility where the concentration is on conservation and the enclosures are designed with the animals’ needs in mind. Among Phoenix’s success stories so far have been the Black Footed Ferret and the Arabian Oryx. It was enjoyable to meander along the paths visiting with the Mandrill, Jaguar, Rhinoceros Hornbill, Spectacled Bear, and other such delightful creatures. For me however, the highlight of the visit was the Arizona Trail section. This network of aviaries and enclosures features wildlife native to the area. A keeper who kindly took a moment to chat with me informed me that most of the inhabitants of this section were actually wildlife rescues. Here I got the chance to encounter many of the animals of the southwest I had always wanted to meet: Constantly chirping prairie dogs popping in and out of their burrows, squat bristly gray javelinas who could open their own food bins with their snouts then letting them slam back shut with a clatter, a morose black vulture, a Gila monster that appeared to be made entirely of tiny Halloween colored beads, a lean bob tailed coyote prowling his paddock, a pronghorn who remained alluring and graceful in spite of her seemingly disproportionate head, and several others. If I were to chose a favorite enclosure, it would have to be the aviary containing the burrowing owls and roadrunners. Burrowing owls are one of the few diurnal species of owl in the world. They are small enough to sit comfortably in my hand and regard the world through baleful yellow eyes. With their brown and white speckled plumage they could easily be mistaken for a dirt clod until you realize that the “clod” is staring at you with an expression of righteous indignation. They are utterly enchanting little birds. Roadrunners on the other hand, are constantly in motion. If ever a bird looked endearingly like an escaped mental patient, it would be the roadrunner. They are streaked with brown and white feathers, accented with black along their wings, tail, and erectile crest. A blue crescent of bare skin surrounds their wide insane eyes. Every marking on them seems to accent their streamlined shape. As I entered the aviary, I was immediately greeted by one of these birds who jogged towards me with a surprisingly smooth movement, raised his crest and uttered a strange noise at me that can be best recorded as: “Brrzzap!”. he watched me with an air of expectant lunacy. After I had been in the enclosure for a short while, I realized that he had come up to me because I was wearing the same hat as his keeper.
Sunday morning brought with it yet more rain. I don’t wish to complain. I really do enjoy a good rain. I just would like to point out to those responsible that having it rain so frequently is really no way to run a desert. After a quick swim down to the shops, the weather cleared up enough to contemplate a trip to the zoo. Phoenix Zoo is located in a park area that almost lets you forget you are within city limits. Like the Bronx Zoo, San Diego or Washington D.C., Phoenix is an admirable modern facility where the concentration is on conservation and the enclosures are designed with the animals’ needs in mind. Among Phoenix’s success stories so far have been the Black Footed Ferret and the Arabian Oryx. It was enjoyable to meander along the paths visiting with the Mandrill, Jaguar, Rhinoceros Hornbill, Spectacled Bear, and other such delightful creatures. For me however, the highlight of the visit was the Arizona Trail section. This network of aviaries and enclosures features wildlife native to the area. A keeper who kindly took a moment to chat with me informed me that most of the inhabitants of this section were actually wildlife rescues. Here I got the chance to encounter many of the animals of the southwest I had always wanted to meet: Constantly chirping prairie dogs popping in and out of their burrows, squat bristly gray javelinas who could open their own food bins with their snouts then letting them slam back shut with a clatter, a morose black vulture, a Gila monster that appeared to be made entirely of tiny Halloween colored beads, a lean bob tailed coyote prowling his paddock, a pronghorn who remained alluring and graceful in spite of her seemingly disproportionate head, and several others. If I were to chose a favorite enclosure, it would have to be the aviary containing the burrowing owls and roadrunners. Burrowing owls are one of the few diurnal species of owl in the world. They are small enough to sit comfortably in my hand and regard the world through baleful yellow eyes. With their brown and white speckled plumage they could easily be mistaken for a dirt clod until you realize that the “clod” is staring at you with an expression of righteous indignation. They are utterly enchanting little birds. Roadrunners on the other hand, are constantly in motion. If ever a bird looked endearingly like an escaped mental patient, it would be the roadrunner. They are streaked with brown and white feathers, accented with black along their wings, tail, and erectile crest. A blue crescent of bare skin surrounds their wide insane eyes. Every marking on them seems to accent their streamlined shape. As I entered the aviary, I was immediately greeted by one of these birds who jogged towards me with a surprisingly smooth movement, raised his crest and uttered a strange noise at me that can be best recorded as: “Brrzzap!”. he watched me with an air of expectant lunacy. After I had been in the enclosure for a short while, I realized that he had come up to me because I was wearing the same hat as his keeper.
Comments
Post a Comment