Exeunt, pursuing a bear
Jun. 16th, 2006 09:07 amI was sitting in on a lecture just now. The outside door was open, with the blind drawn up a couple of feet to let in the morning air and the remains of the breakfast buffet spread out nearby. Suddenly there was a cry of 'Bear!' and a shaggy brown rear end and leg were briefly visible. Everyone grabbed cameras and ran first to the windows and then outside, where indeed a sizeable brown bear was strolling through the woods and across the path.
No good pictures to show, alas; I got one hopeless blur and one shot of a nose and hindquarters on opposite sides of a tree.
'Bear with me,' the lecturer said when we finally reconvened and settled down.
No good pictures to show, alas; I got one hopeless blur and one shot of a nose and hindquarters on opposite sides of a tree.
'Bear with me,' the lecturer said when we finally reconvened and settled down.

DSC05935
Originally uploaded by ellarien.
There are quite a lot of butterflies up here. The big yellow-and-black and black-and-white swallowtails will flutter temptingly close, but not pose; this smaller, paler specimen obligingly lighted on a flower by the roadside when I went for a solitary stroll after lunch today.
White Sands
Jun. 13th, 2006 09:52 pmI spent the late afternoon and evening at White Sands National Monument, with a party mostly made up of the students attending the summer school where I'm instructing this week. We picnicked in a rather stark area that was uncomfortably hot when we first arrived, but the student managed to have fun anyway, sledding down the encircling dunes.
Later we went on a guided 'Sunset Stroll' among the dunes, where the guide provided interesting commentary on the natural history and geology of the dunes. I've been there a couple of times before, but never seen much more than the yucca plants that poke up through the sand here and there. According to our guide, those survive by growing to keep their heads above the encroaching dunes. We were also introduced to the tiny pink-flowered centaury, sand verbena, rosemary mint that binds pedestals of the gypsum sands with its roots, and for a grand finale a skunkbush sumac on a ten-foot tall pedestal that's a miniature island habitat in itself. I spotted some tiny animal tracks across the sand. Round about then, the sun set, not in spectacular fashion but quite prettily.
By the time we got back to the picnic area, the stars were starting to show, and the air was pleasantly cool.
( Sample photos -- more on Flickr )
Later we went on a guided 'Sunset Stroll' among the dunes, where the guide provided interesting commentary on the natural history and geology of the dunes. I've been there a couple of times before, but never seen much more than the yucca plants that poke up through the sand here and there. According to our guide, those survive by growing to keep their heads above the encroaching dunes. We were also introduced to the tiny pink-flowered centaury, sand verbena, rosemary mint that binds pedestals of the gypsum sands with its roots, and for a grand finale a skunkbush sumac on a ten-foot tall pedestal that's a miniature island habitat in itself. I spotted some tiny animal tracks across the sand. Round about then, the sun set, not in spectacular fashion but quite prettily.
By the time we got back to the picnic area, the stars were starting to show, and the air was pleasantly cool.
( Sample photos -- more on Flickr )

The drought is very obvious up here, in yellowed grass and a heartbreaking lot of dead and dying trees. The mountains around Tucson are presumably no better off, but in the well-irrigated city we're shielded from the worst of it. The forest is closed, and the observatory grounds are strictly no-smoking and haunted by bears.
The observatory always reminds me of the original Myst game, with strange-shaped buildings looming among the pine and fir trees. It's still a beautiful place, with stunning if hazy views over the Tularosa basin from the ridge where the telescopes stand, but it has a rather sad and withered look now.
On the way back down to the village this evening, we saw several elk, big solid brown beasts with pale rumps; one had a fairly impressive set of antlers. We paused at a viewpoint and watched the sun set over the mountains on the other side of the Tularosa basin, with the White Sands glimmering in the middle distance and a shadowy green canyon in the foreground, and a couple of birds singing a repetitive, two-note duet among the trees. The sky was mostly clear, with just a few gilt-edged clouds above the horizon, and the sun was a perfect circle of red-gold fire in a field of smooth rose.
Very tired now. Also my camera batteries are completely flat.
Period charm ... and wireless internet
Jun. 11th, 2006 08:36 pmI am posting this from my room at The Lodge, Cloudcroft, NM, which is a charming Victorian resort hotel at an elevation of about 9000 feet. My initial investigations of the room revealed a lot of period charm -- and a handcrafted bear pleading for adoption on the pillow -- but gave me no reason to expect connectivity other than of the dialup variety. I cranked up the laptop anyway, and was pleasantly surprised to discover a wireless connection that works rather better than the one in Copenhagen. For a while there, though, I was trying very hard not to feel like a city girl in a movie, completely lost without my cell phone signal etcetera. (And there is, indeed, no cell phone signal, but most of the other modern hotel room niceties are in fact here, just discreetly tucked into corners.)
It's nice and cool here, but I'm feeling the altitude a bit, not to mention the effects of sitting in a car for most of the day and eating two substantial meals.
It's nice and cool here, but I'm feeling the altitude a bit, not to mention the effects of sitting in a car for most of the day and eating two substantial meals.