On March 2nd, making our way from Anza-Borrego to Ajo, we stopped at the edge of some dunes that bordered Mexico in hopes of finding sand food. Originally I wasn't planning on getting out of the car, it was burning hot and my stomach was NOT happy at the Mexican food we had just eaten, but I heard Pedro yelling my name from somewhere in the distance. I reluctantly got out of the car to see what he needed and was pleasantly surprised when I walked over to see him pointing out animal tracks in the sand. Up until this point in the trip I saw only 1-2 distinct sets of animal tracks but this area was covered in them. The sand showed tracks much better than the rocky and soil terrains we spent most of the trip on. Everywhere you looked there were different tracks, most of them I couldn't even begin to guess what made them and a few that were pretty obvious. I took lots of pictures and in most of them I remembered to use something as a reference size (either my hand or my shoe). I haven't looked in my book of scat and tracks to confirm what made the tracks yet but I am very excited to figure it out!

We spent Feb 25th making our way through Joshua Tree National Park en route to Anza. One of the most memorable things that I saw on that day was the poor little woodrat that had been impaled on the teddy bear cholla. I had walked right past it on my way into the cholla garden but was told to look for it on my way out and oh boy did I see it. It was a very dramatic scene with its little mouth agape, arms splayed and wedged into the cholla at about eye level. I had remembered from the species presentations at the beginning of the class that loggerheaded shrikes were known to impale their prey and leave them for later. When I posted my observation on iNat someone left a comment that the woodrat was probably left there by a loggerheaded shrike which lined up with what I thought had happened. I'm kind of confused how this is possibly though considering that the woodrat was kind of big and from my understanding loggerheaded shrikes are relatively small, but all other signs point to the loggerheaded shrike as the predator. I thought it was an extra memorable experience because as I was standing there taking pictures of it I had a number of groups come up and ask me what I saw, when I told them what I was looking at they each had similar reactions of disgust and curiosity, and some even took pictures along with me.

During the first few days of the trip I had no idea what my final would look like and after starting at Death Valley I had low expectations of seeing many animals. While I didn't see much in the way of cute furry animals (my personal favorite) for the first few days, I began to see tons of scat and burrows that proved the presence of cute furry animals. This gave me the reassurance that my idea for the final project would be attainable if I looked hard enough. I did feel discouraged at times when we all met but up after hikes and my classmates had seen so many cool things that would have been a great addition to my project but I had missed them. Luckily they always offered to send me pictures of what they saw in order to help me with my project (something I super appreciated, luv you all <3). Looking back I wish I had used a size reference when taking pictures of the various burrows and scat that I found (something I figured out while looking through the scat and tracks book at the Anza field station) but I sure do have a ton of pictures of holes in the ground. Going into the project I had no background in identifying tracks or scat which put me at a bit of a disadvantage to some of my classmates who centered their projects around things they already had a wealth of knowledge on. Even after the conclusion of our two week trip I still feel lost when it comes to ID'ing the pictures that I took, but everyone has to start somewhere I guess. Hoping it turns into everything I imagined...

An observation I was very excited to make was the difference in coloration of a particular genus of grasshoppers in Organ Pipe National Monument Park. I was wandering around on the search for different arthropod species when I noticed something nearly invisible hop along the ground. I found it was a grasshopper with a white marbled coloration. With time I spotted another, then another, then many more throughout my hike. I was able to identify them as in the genus Cibolacris. When I looked at all these different grasshoppers, I realized their coloration varied slightly between them according to where they were. The one I initially found was a white marble color to match the light granite rocks among which I found it. The second one I found had a similar pattern but more colors to it, blending in with the sandier ditches with plant debris and pink rocks. A third one near the end of my hike had a completely different pattern, looking like someone had sprinkled pepper on it. This one blended in with the dark gravel background of the path paved for the trail. Three different colored grasshoppers in three different environments, just within yards of each other. It immediately reminded me of classic textbook examples of natural selection, but this time it was right here in front of my face and in my hand. It was a pretty simple observation, but a good testimony to the selective pressures of the desert and the continuous, even seemingly minute, changes that allowed these native species to thrive.

02/23/22: First real day at the Norris Camp and Teaching Area in the Granite Mountains began with a hike to find the spring that might lead to a promise of birds and mammals. I was following the group on a trail that I believed to lead us to this spring. As my fellow peers got distracted by various plants, I continued on this trail. Eventually, I turned around to see that no one was nearby me and I had strayed from the group. Rather than turn around to find them again, I decided to continue on the trail until I found an adequate sitting rock.

There came a time when I lost the trail, but found the rock, so I decided to sit. I would learn the next day that the trail continues to the top of the ridge and would have a very intimate conversation with a new friend there. Likewise, I sat on this rock and stared at the horizon of mountains. The night prior was one with snowfall, the first snow I had ever seen as a native Floridian. The air was cold, the ground damp. I chose this space to reflect on the nature around me and how I related to them in regards to my personal relationships. Then, I began to write a poem that I later finished and presented to my class:

Maybe Tomorrow It Will Rain by Tayler King

When I was told the desert was desolate, I thought it absurd.

But only when I sat on this stone did I understand that this deafening silence was one I had always heard.

I, like the toads, bury myself beneath the dirt while it is dry and think,
Maybe tomorrow it will rain.
I, like the flowers, take up as little space as possible, I shrink,
Because maybe tomorrow it will rain.

I, like the ocotillo, wait to show my leaves
Maybe tomorrow it will rain.
I, like the creosote, take love and hoard it from thieves
Maybe tomorrow it will rain.

I, like the mesquite, reach deep, so deep
I, like the gray fox, I creep and creep
I, like the finch, don’t make a peep
And I, on this rock, fear to make the leap.

But as I watch the snow melt into the earth, turning the plants green and making the flowers bloom,
I hope that one day it will rain for me too.

2/23/22: Apparently this day was filled with triumphant poetic revelations. Later after the rock poetry session, we as a class went to the Kelso Sand Dunes to climb them.

I think I misunderstood the task we were about to undertake because I did not prepare correctly for this adventure. I was layered in two hoodies, only ate an apple beforehand, and did not say a prayer before entering. Let me explain why I would never have climbed a 200 foot sand dune before this.

I am from Florida, the flattest state ever.
I hate sand.

Not much of an explanation, but you get the point.

The walk to the base was fine. Getting used to the terrain was a learning curve, but we saw some interesting things. Some plants are deeply rooted as an advantage in the sandy "soil". We saw an armored stink beetle, who did not blend with the pale sand, but walked confidently regardless. We also saw lots of scat that are semblances of life unseen.

My friend, JC, was the main motivator up the dune. I often thought "After this one hill, I am done.", but JC kept saying behind me "You're doing so well, Tayler, keep it up!." Just having the motivation behind me kept me from quitting. The last dune was hardest. It was the steepest, windiest, and most tiring to forge a path on.

But when JC and I reached the top of the dune (the last of the group), I felt like a conqueror. We celebrated and took pictures and shared relieved smiles with each other.

And as I scooted down the dune, hearing the sand sing to me, I finally understood why people climb mountains.

Oasis (noun): a fertile spot in the desert, where water is found.

Being in the desert had really refreshed (pun intended) my love for water. Such a simple molecule that does so much for this beautiful planet. Thus, my favorite hike was a trail to an oasis split in two by a stream.

I knew this trail was different from the very first step. Flowers were in bloom all around us and I took so much time to just breathe in the color that I had long not seen. We then happened upon a stream that has tadpoles and beautifully clear water in it. Walking alongside this stream toward the oasis of fan palms ahead, we ran into a tree frog, many hummingbirds, and some sphinx moths.

Our timing was poor with this hike, and we were walking back at sundown and had to travel at dusk, but seeing such a dry place thrive with the little bit of water available was such a wonderful surprise.

Transitioning from Death Valley to Granite Mountains felt like entering a new world. Not only from the flora we began to see but from the way the dynamics of our group changed. We went from seeing the same two plants in Death Valley to seeing several cacti, our first mammal, lichen and ferns and even snow. Our group went from 13 people in a class together to 13 people bonding over their love for the natural world and new experiences. Our first day exploring the granite mountains ended with us all at the dinner table sharing our finds from the hike. We got to see the oil glands of the Thamnosma montana (turpentine broom) under Annikas tiny but mighty microscope. We sifted through our field guides and helped one another figure out the plants we had seen. We determined if Pedro found an actual meteorite or not. I truly felt inspired and uplifted by the people around me and the nature we got to experience and share with one another. What better way to learn about the world around you than from people you admire.

While in Joshua Tree we stopped abruptly in the middle of the road and pulled the Lata Gris into the gravel and La Cucaracha Blanca followed. We stopped for this dark green blob that laid halfway in the dirt and on the pavement road. It was Datura wrightii (Sacred Datura) growing recklessly on the side of the road. It was an impromptu stop that lead to us seeing some of my favorite things of our trip. I was amazed by the presence of the Datura since it was on my list of plants to find. It contains poisonous alkaloids yet its use has been documented in sacred rituals of indigenous cultures. I thought it was bizarre to see something so special to a culture growing so close to the road that ran through the natural landscape. Our finds didn't stop at the Datura, we went on to see Sarcostemma hirtellum (hairy milkweed) with soft pastel flowers. Seeing flowers at all was always a treat but being able to see something so intricate in the middle of the desert was extremely rewarding.

It was the last Monday of our trip and we had to take an afternoon hike to pass some time. With anticipation for a short hike(after the past week being full of six-mile hikes every day) and the chance to spot a bighorn sheep, we took a short drive from the biological station to Borrego Springs. Being a botanist in training the lack of flowers spotted on the trip thus far was starting to bum me out. But, as we were driving into the park I screamed " A SAND VERBENA", the perfect Nyctinginaceae specimen just along the road, to say I was excited would be an understatement. Pulling into a parking spot I saw tons of desert lavender and I knew today's hike was going to be a gorgeous one. It was about 3:30 pm and the sun was still beaming as it got ready to set. We began our march up the trail knowing this was not going to be a short hike at all but the hope for wildflowers kept my spirits high. we came upon the perfect photo op with tons of Encelia farinosa and a gorgeous backdrop of mountains in the distance (i definitely got a good Instagram post) and I could hear Pedro and Cory screaming in excitement about new birds and lizards being found. After the photo op, we continued to the stream determined to find some bighorn sheep appreciating the water. We may have not found any sheep but we sure did enjoy the stream views and even got to see the first frog of our trip! The sun was starting to set and the sky was lit with purple, orange, and pink hues. Our hiking group decided to take the alternate trail back to the car and we eventually caught up to the legend: Norm Douglas. How could we be worried about not getting to the bottom before sundown when we had a beautiful sunset and a winding rocky path that took our breath away in front of us? I enjoyed every minute of this hike and the whole class managed to get to the car before it became pitch black outside..... just perfect.