Great Sand Dunes National Park

The fires raging in Colorado are reminding many of us of similar recent events on our home turf, and we feel great empathy for the current trauma there. Colorado was my home for many years during childhood, college years and young adulthood, and the scent of pine and the rush of mountain streams still take me home. Let's look for a bit at some of Colorado's natural jewels, starting with the Great Sand Dunes.

Dunefield of Great Sand Dunes National Park (Photos by Narca)

Hidden away in the San Luis Valley of Colorado are the sculpted sands of the tallest dunefield in North America: Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. A recent scouting trip allowed me to explore this newest national park, in the fine company of our friend Jim.

Gnarly bark of a Rocky Mountain Juniper (Juniperus scopulorum)

The dune ecosystem is far more complex than I had realized. Cradled against the 14,000-foot Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the park's life zones range from alpine tundra above treeline, down through subalpine spruce forest, montane forest, pinyon-juniper woodland, the dunefield itself, the sand sheet and grassland surrounding the dunes, on down to the lowest elevations, which feature alkaline flats or "sabkha", and the riparian corridors and wetlands associated with seasonal creeks.

Sand dunes, we learned at the Gray Ranch in New Mexico, are a sponge for absorbing precipitation. Beneath the dunes, any impervious layer of rock or clay traps the water, so that trees can establish at lower elevations if their roots can reach water. Imagine what aquifer underlies the Great Sand Dunes!

Creeks flow into the dunes from the towering Sangre de Cristos––mainly Medano and Sand Creeks. These creeks are shallow, surging, and seasonal. Children and adults delight in playing in the cool waters. In this extreme year of drought and heat, very few wet spots are showing at the surface in late June. But at a slightly lower elevation, the waters sponged up by the dunes are still being released slowly, feeding the wetlands where American Avocets and Killdeer breed.

The dunefield at dusk

The sand sheet with its grasslands surrounds the dunefield. In this region vegetation has stabilized old dunes, so that they no longer shift and now support thriving grasses and shrubs like Rabbitbrush (a fantastic magnet for butterflies and other insects when it blooms).

This trip, we camp at Pinyon Flats, as shadows grow long on the dunes. Smoke from the distant Little Sand Fire, burning to the northwest of Pagosa Springs, blurs the western mountains but doesn't quite reach us here.

Next morning, we find Clark's Nutcrackers and bright flowers along shady Montville Nature Trail. By all reports the winter has been exceedingly dry, and certainly the Sangre de Cristos don't carry their usual mantle of snow and ice––what was there has mostly melted. Yet I am used to desert conditions, and am surprised to find a fine variety of wildflowers and busy insects, in so dry a year.

Wyoming Paintbrush (Castilleja linariifolia)

Quaking Aspen (Populus tremuloides)

After hiking the nature trail, we drive to the Point of No Return and explore the nearby dunes. The whisk marks of kangaroo rats' tails and the miniature tractor-prints of big beetles pattern the sand.

Vesper Sparrows and Green-tailed Towhees both find the region much to their liking. They are at the peak of nesting season, and the air rings with their songs.

A hefty Vesper Sparrow on territory

A Green-tailed Towhee throws every ounce of strength into broadcasting his song.

Even in the grassland near the dunes, flowers still manage to bloom, beautifully.

Hall's Penstemon (Penstemon hallii)

In wetter years, Prairie Sunflowers (Helianthus petiolaris) carpet the grassland. Now only a scattered few are blooming.

Scarlet Gaura (Gaura coccinea) is a familiar, widespread species.

Rocky Mountain Beeplant (Cleome serrulata) is spectacular!

This native Wavyleaf Thistle (Cirsium undulatum) is irresistible to insects.

A night-blooming Cutleaf Evening Primrose (Oenothera coronopifolia) hasn't yet faded with the coming of day.

Insects also catch our eye, including this lovely dragonfly.

OK, Doug and Bob, this one is for you!

And indeed, Doug Danforth tells me this is a female Variegated Meadowhawk (Sympetrum corruptum)––thanks, Doug!

An endemic tiger beetle roams the dunes, but seeing that gorgeous insect will have to wait till the next trip!

Dark, heavy sand grains of magnetite form patterns on the dune.

Another fantasy dances in my mind: imagine spending the night up on those dunes, when they are flooded in moonlight, or dark with a field of stars blazing overhead. We talk to one young couple who did just that. They say that sand is in all their gear and clothes, but how worth it for the experience!

Celebrating Our Local CBCs

This year, again, Alan and I joined the national ritual of Christmas Bird Counts, once more participating in the back-to-back counts for Portal, Arizona, and the Peloncillo Mountains, New Mexico. The weather couldn't have been finer, with temperatures rising into the high 60s and low 70s.

The Portal count, coordinated by Jackie Lewis, was on Saturday. We hiked out our door and up to the high base of Portal Peak, a big bowl full of old-growth Arizona Madrone trees. Away from the canyon bottoms, much of our territory burned last May during the Horseshoe Two fire. Some regrowth has begun, but a lot of it still looks like the Desolation of Smaug.

Trudging through the Desolation, heading for that ribbon of green at the foot of Portal Peak (All photos except oriole by Narca)

Happily, many of the big madrones had weathered last year's drought, freeze and fire, although only a few still bore fruit this day.

An ancient Arizona Madrone, partly burned out, is sprouting new branches. Go, Life!

Junipers are way off in their cycle! We saw almost no berries (and a corresponding lack of berry-eaters like Sage Thrashers and Phainopeplas), and many junipers were peaking in their pollen production! Who ever heard of juniper pollen at the end of December?? Late February is more normal. Clouds of orange pollen were wafting on light breezes, creating a very sneezy CBC. Come on, hay fever in December?

This especially bright Say's Phoebe was flycatching within the Desolation.

The Vesper Sparrows surprised me by being in the burned area, higher on the mountain than they usually winter.

Several friends joined us––Skip from Maine, Linda from Idaho, Brad from Tucson––and here is Brad's photo of a highlight for our territory, an adult male Scott's Oriole, in all his finery. We've never before recorded one in our yard in December! I don't know whether Mr Scott is very late, or very early.

Scott's Oriole near Portal, AZ (Photo by Brad Tatham)

Sunday's Peloncillo count, coordinated by Nick Pederson, includes the north end of the Animas Valley, where the Diamond A Ranch (formerly Gray Ranch) allows entry for the CBC counters. Our territory was south of Dunagan's Crossing, from the hackberries through Middle Well, for those who know this valley. This part of the ranch had obviously endured a dry summer, and bird numbers were very low. (Other parts of the count circle fared better.)

The Peloncillo count has always shown boom-and-bust cycles, in synchrony with rain and drought. Once in a span of two years, we went from having the all-time national high for Brewer's Sparrows to zero! Such huge fluctuations emphasize why studies of wildlife in desert regions must be long-term to be truly relevant.

This cryptic Great Horned Owl was roosting in an old hackberry tree. He's hoping we don't see him!

Great Horned Owl in the Animas Valley, New Mexico

The Lark Buntings were also fun, as they picked through horse droppings in search of goodies. This male shows a trace of his classy black breeding dress around his bill.

Lark Bunting looking for a snack