For over twenty years I spent at least a day each week out exploring the Agua Fria National Monument north of Phoenix. I liked to arrive at the crack of dawn – partially to miss the heat and partially to be there as the wildlife woke up.
Arriving at the crack of dawn, or earlier, meant that many times I had to wait around for the sun to rise and for there to be enough light that I could see the ground. Seeing the ground was necessary as one of the main purposes of my visits was to document prehistoric field houses and artifacts. If you can’t see the ground, you can’t see the artifacts or anything else.
When the sky starts to light up, the wildlife starts to wake up. Unless they are nocturnal, and then they are scurrying back to their sleeping spots to spend the day in cool, dark locations – hidden from predators.
The first thing you hear are coyotes. They are yip-yapping their chorus to all their friends across the mesa tops. Totally fun and enjoyable to hear. I’m sure that they enjoy hearing each other, too. Brothers and sisters, whole families, are out there, alive and well, feeling rested and looking to go hunting for a breakfast snack – rabbits, ground squirrels, quail or whatever. Maybe they can all get together for a communal hunt. Working as a group means that they might more quickly ease those pangs of hunger which built up overnight.
Then you hear birds waking up and chirping and calling here and there. Much lighter in tone and quicker in delivery, they also are communicating. Maybe with just a need for companionship, but also maybe an announcement of food locations, water, or something else. Possibly just celebrating life. I don’t speak “bird”, so I can’t really tell. Never-the-less, again, they are pleasing to the ear, fun to hear, and relaxing to the mind.
One of the most interesting sounds are the moos of cattle, dispersed overnight for sleep, but up and moving towards waterholes for a fill up before the heat of the day. And to reconnect with their friends. Listening to them call to each other across the distances, a quarter of a mile or more separated, makes you realize they are all connected, as individuals and as a part of a community. One here moos and one there answers. Mainly mothers and children, cows and calves. The bulls are kept separate most of the year by the ranchers. The Moms are very caring of their calves. They’ll watch where you are walking and come between you and their calves if you get too close. When the ranchers round all the calves up and, amongst other things, attach a colored and numbered tag to their ears, it’s kind of comical to watch them scampering around. Those tags are made to last until they are adults, but they look so really big on them when they are young.
The main feeling I always got those early mornings was an almost spiritual sense of relaxation. I was able to breathe in fresh air, move through grasses and cactus covered with morning dew, and join all that wildlife in welcoming a new day. For them it was an opportunity to feed, drink and socialize. For me it was an opportunity to exercise through continual walking, explore new areas and find new to me evidence of prehistoric life. The feeling of excitement and expectation was palpable. The worries of civilization were left behind. Both my mind and my body, even my soul, experienced a renewal not available thru other means. My views of that at my feet expanded until I sensed the horizon in all directions – and then that feeling cascaded back in again until everything in existence around me had been seen, felt, accepted and wondered about. Making my life full once again.
arizonamike 