Magical Baboquivari!

Every time I visit the unspoiled Sonoran desert on the Tohono O'odham reservation, I remind myself of two things - how incredibly fortunate I am to be in the here and now, in such a remarkable place, and how important the preservation of these natural areas is for all of us and future generations. What I find here in the purity and solitude is very special. I use the term purity with the utmost respect, regarding not just the flora, but the fauna as well.

On a recent hike into the Baboquivari wilderness, to the foothills of that magnificent peak, rising to a 7,700' summit, I was joined by a pack of coyotes, who clearly had my scent and were circling in to whet their curiosity. They remained at a safe distance - I picked up occasional glimpses through the desert undergrowth as they moved about, some 30 - 40 yards away. They communicated constantly with yips and yaps; signaling which I sensed was not a result of nervousness or alarm, but only to verify each other's location in relationship to mine, and likely to warn me of their territorial authority. There were numerous signs of scat about, and perhaps a den nearby. The smells associated with my SUV parked on a rocky flat below the scene probably added a sense of confusion to their investigation. I felt completely unthreatened by their presence - a feeling I have developed from many encounters with coyotes in the desert around my Arizona home.

And so, revisiting the purity theme, I can say without hesitation that these coyotes were instinctively pure of heart in both action and reaction. As all animals are; pure of heart and soul. Delusional to think that we could be the same. They circled a while longer before settling into position to simply monitor and observe. The loud communication died away, leaving just  occasional whining to let me know they were still there.

I did some circling of my own, around a giant saguaro, replete with cozy cactus wren nest about half way up its massive main trunk. Several curling arms rose skyward, not reaching the height of the center spire - some thirty feet above the ground. A two hundred year-old specimen, no doubt. Just a six-foot baby when Geronimo walked this land.

Hauling out my trusty Nikon, I took a few pictures of the surroundings, the mountain backdrop, the thick, tough, semi-arid greenery, and even one of a coyote who kept pacing back and forth along a ridge line off to the east. Then I retraced my route back toward the SUV, listening for movement from my companions all the while. Next to the vehicle I turn to take a last look back at the saguaro.

I will return to Baboquivari as often as I am able. My spirits are greatly lifted with each visit. My soul finds peace here with each message the desert sends me. I cannot claim to be 'Coyote-meeter.' That title, among the O'odham, is reserved for one who experiences a quest-like, one-on-one encounter. An encounter involving a pairing of spirits - man and animal together. But maybe some day. A mystery to contemplate, if there ever was one.