I got a great look at a yellow-eyed junco, Junco phaeonotus, also known as the Mexican junco, outside the general store in Summerhaven, Arizona, high atop Mount Lemmon. The bird was foraging on the ground at close range and in plain view, but by the time Jessa could bring the camera to bear, it had flown into a tree and was terribly backlit in the afternoon sun. I actually like the resulting picture, artistic and moody, but it is no way diagnostic.
Fortunately there was another junco near Rose Canyon Lake, and though dusk was rapidly falling, the camera compensated admirably for the low light, which was at least coming from the right direction now.
The hike back out of Rose Canyon, in the dark through bear (and probably mountain lion) habitat, and with my mobile making pitiful bleating low-battery sounds until I had the presence of mind to shut the damned thing off, l would like to forget—but I dare not. So, a memo to future me:
You might think it's a ten-minute walk from the highway down to the lake, maybe fifteen. That's a delusion, Churchill. It's forty-five, easy. And "easy" is the downhill bit. To hike back uphill in forty-five you'll have to set a brisk pace that will leave you gasping. So please, you stupid forgetful git, don't save Rose Canyon for late in the day. Give yourself plenty of time. You can thank me later. And maybe Farrell won't have to give you grief.
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