Hiking the Ciénega Creek Trail with Friend,Tom Markey — Images by kenne (Click on Any Image for Larger View with Descriptions In a Slideshow Formate.)
Ciénega Creek Trail (English: “Hundred Springs Creek” or “Marsh Creek”) is an intermittent stream located within the Cienega Creek Natural Preserve, and is one of the most intact riparian corridors left in the state, represents one of the last perennial streams in southeastern Arizona. It originates in the Canelo Hills and continues northwest about 50 miles (80 km) to an area just outside Tucson, where it becomes known as Pantano Wash. Pantano Wash continues through Tucson and eventually connects with the Rillito River.
Gila Topminnow, once the most widespread fish in the Gila River basin (including Santa Cruz River), the Gila topminnow now claims Cienega Creek as its last stronghold in the United States. This guppy-like fish is good at thriving in less than ideal water conditions and loves to feast on mosquito larva. — Source: Pima County
A Rock Art Snake In The Tanque Verde Wash — Images by kenne
The creative people living near the Tanque Verde wash keep doing their thing, this time in the wash rather than alongside the wash. To create a rock art snake with rocks this size, the creator(s) would need to carry rocks from fifty or more yards away. This rock art snake in the wash is located about a mile west of most of the art previously posted on this blog, just east of the Craycroft Road bridge where the wash runs into the Rillito River.
Trail Next To The Tanque Verde Wash, Looking East.Tanque Verde Wash, Looking East.Tanque Verde Wash, Looking East.Tanque Verde Wash, Looking South.Tanque Verde Wash, Looking West — Images by kenne
Record rains have filled the normally dry Tanque Verde Wash. The rain gauge at our home located on one of the ridges above the wash measured 2.5 inches. The mountains north of us have received rain in ranges above 6 inches.
These photos were taken along the wash just east of where the it runs into the Rillito River. (January 31, 2015)
Currently, the rain has moved on leaving us a foggy damp morning. The forecast is sunny by mid-morning, making for great upper-sixties weather for the Super Bowl being played 90 miles north of us. Oh, and also for the Phoenix Open in Scottsdale.
Yesterday we received a much-needed 1.6 inches of rain (patio reading) with even more at the higher elevations.
This image is from our patio, looking south past our neighbor toward the Tanque Verde wash.
Later in the day the clouds began to breakup, with still a heavy cover over the Catalinas.
This morning I walked along the Tanque Verde wash, which now has water flowing toward the Rillito river at Craycroft Road.
Images by kenne
Before the rains this weekend, I was leading a SCVN hike in Sabino Canyon, which involved crossing the Sabino Creek —
an easy task compared to what some hikers were having to deal with yesterday in Bear Canyon, located just east of Sabino Canyon.
We never met Margarita Berg. She was diagnosed with cancer about the time we move to Tucson, passing away three months later.
During her last few months, Margarita and David would spend time walking their dog on the trails along the banks of the Tanque Verde Wash
(I originally thought it was the Rillito River.) and used dead tree limbs to create art stations along the many trails in the near-by Tanuri Ridge desert park.
When not hiking the many in southern Arizona, I often walk the trails along the wash, which is how I learned about the trail art
and the memorial David had created in Margareta’s memory. (Click here to read more in an earlier posting on the Memory Tree.)
About a month ago I took my camera with me on a morning walk along the wash. When I came upon the Memory Tree,
fresh flowers had been placed at the base of the tree, causing me to realized that it was near the time of Margarita’s passing away anniversary.
I didn’t see David and his dog. I haven’t seen him for over a year now. I know he still walks his dog near the wash and regularly drops rose pedals at the base of the tree.
Saguaro Cactus are large trees that live to be hundreds of years old. It is one of the defining plants of the Sonoran Desert. Like this Saguaro in Tanuri Ridge, these plants are giant, tree-like columnar cacti that develop branches (or arms) as they age, although some never grow arms. The number of arms and the likely age of this particular plant may have helped shorten this plant’s life due to the current long drought and unusually cold weather this past winter. Our Saguaro was one impressive plant when I first photographed it last November. I’m sure that over the life of this plant, it experienced harsh conditions, but none as severe as the previous nine months. Even with some of the arms reaching down to help support this giant (most Saguaro arms point up), our freaky weather took its toll.
Its many arms help depict many images in one’s “mind’s eye,” i.e., runners embracing one another at the finish line, or a symbol of, “He out heavy, he’s my brother.” Although the age of this plant is hard for this novice to determine, the Saguaro rarely grows its arms until after the age of 75. Definitely a slow maturer, the cactus only puts up a main stem or spike for three-quarters of a century, during which it might grow as high as a foot after fifteen years and even seven feet after fifty years. Yet, for many, they may still not have any arms. As the images show, this “big guy” in Tanuri Ridge had a lot of arms, all of which now lie helpless on the ground near the Rillito River.
This is a significant loss to those who walk the Tanuri Ridge trails along the riverside. However, as someone who loves to “capture the moment,” the two (several exist from each shooting) I have near the end of its long life only cause one to challenge the imagination as to other moments that might have been captured over the years. For example, at one time, there was running water in the river with large cottonwoods lining its edge — just imagine! Such imaginative moments are priceless.
When I took this photo, August 3, 2010, I did so trying to capture the feel
of the trail and this old mesquite tree.
Little did I know that this place along the trail
had been captured before by Margarita and David Berg.
Again, my camera has taught me how to see without a camera.
My experience has taught me how to feel
the moments captured before by others, so I can focus on capturing the moment.
A short walk down from our house is the Rillito River. Yesterday at sunset, I walked down along the river to prepare to take some photos of the super moon. While waiting for the moon to come up, I took this image of the setting sun. Click here to see some previous river trail photos.
Everywhere I look I see art,
sometimes the work of nature,
sometimes the work of humans.
The other morning,
camera in hand,
I walked the nearby wash down to the Rillito River.
It was only five days ago a river with a depth of five feet,
but today all the water is gone,
leaving it in its normal waterless state.
Image by kenne
Before reaching the river, I noticed several trails,
so I decided to do some exploring,
choosing the most foreboding trail to follow.
Much to my wonder,
I begin to come upon works of art
left for passersby to contemplate in nature’s gallery,
as if in competition with nature’s own work.
Image by kenne
Making no judgment as to their artistic worth,
only being grateful for their existence,
I began staging myself to capture images of the art.
I have chosen to share them in black & white.
Rillito River across from the Windmill Inn in St. Phillip’s Plaza — Image by kenne
One does not often see water in the Rillito River(Above image taken February 15, 2010), but the other evening our area of the Catalina Foothills received the first good rain fall in weeks, filling washes and flooding low road grades. Much of the runoff ends up in the Rillito River, making it really look like a river. The photo below was taken after the water level had already dropped considerably.
Rillito River — Image by kenne
The image below is of the sunset before the storm came through.
Trail Next To The Tanque Verde Wash, Looking East.
Tanque Verde Wash, Looking East.
Tanque Verde Wash, Looking East.
Tanque Verde Wash, Looking South.
Tanque Verde Wash, Looking West — Images by kenne
Becoming is Superior to Being 