I am connected to the wildlife here. I feel their living presence around me. Nothing surprises me here anymore. It's my home I know best. I hear their voices and understand their movement.
A sunrise. A sunset. A monsoon shower. A Gilded Flicker calling to the other. "Come here! I found a hill of ants for dinner!" The other responds and flies to its mate.
I sit under a ramada in the 100 plus temps. A migrating Wilson's Phalarope casually passes me by.
|Purple Martin, the desert subspecies hesperia|
Especially at sunset near their Saguaro home.
I am back in my own car again, the USS Betty White. As the sun sets at Saguaro National Park, I think to myself that I am one lucky guy. There is no place like home.