It was a muddy morning at the Overton Wildlife Management Area as it had only stopped raining 2 days before. As I went down the dirt road that paralleled the outside of the wildlife area, I was constantly checking my tires to make sure they didn't get caked with so much mud that the gooey stuff piled up between the tires and the wheel wells (they didn't). As I came closer to the parking lot near Pintail Pond, my destination, I saw 2 wild burros on the road. I've never seen them here before, though I shouldn't be surprised at their presence --
They're cute -- but temperamentally not like the ones I saw in eastern California's Owens Valley in late autumn 2014. Those were domesticated, and I was able to go among them with very little concern for my safety. I've read online that wild burros are somewhat bad-tempered, can kick pretty hard, and run lightning fast, contrary to popular belief. These kept their distance, though I was able to use my 500mm lens on them.
I walked over to Pintail Pond, where I had seen the Mute Swan a few days ago. It was still there; I saw a white speck way out on the pond -- but I was sinking in mud nearly up to the tops of my boots, so I hurried (well, not really, with at least 2 pounds of mud on each boot) out of there, but not before taking a few scenic shots, including one of the Mormon Mountains, at least 30 miles to the north --
That's Mormon Mesa below it. And the reflections of the leafless trees on Pintail Pond were photogenic --
So I went to the more northern section of the wildlife area to see if I had better luck with the mud. (BTW, the refuge is open to hunting from late November through around the end of January. Even days are hunter days, while odd days are for everyone else.) I didn't. But the birds were a LOT more interesting than those of Pintail Pond. There's a section of large trees just outside of the wildlife area. Great Blue Herons nest there -- you can see the nests on top of the trees -- and it's a great area for raptors, who scan the area while perched on the high branches. And sometimes you get the unusual-looking ones here. There's a resident dark-morph female (probably) Red-tailed hawk that's paired with another, smaller RT (probably the male; females are larger than males in the raptor world). There were both there, on the highest branches of one of the trees. And there was this juvenile Cooper's Hawk -- possibly a bit leucistic, what that whitish head? --
But the REAL prize for the day was -- a Gray Ghost. I was sinking in the mud again and thinking about leaving, when I saw a female Harrier flying nearby. And then -- there was Mr. Harrier. I call the males The Gray Ghost because of their coloring, and the fact that I haven't seen too many in all the time I've been "shooting" birds. I've seen at least a hundred Mrs. Harriers over the years, but only a handful of Mr. Harriers. So when I saw this one, I was thrilled, and ready with The Big Boy lens. I think on this photo I got his attention. Hey, I'm not a Coot! Or at least not an old Coot yet --
Magnificent. A beautiful bird. And he even was kind enough to give me a closeup look --
Wow. I would have been satisfied if I'd been skunked all day besides seeing him. But there were a few more nice surprises to come, including a Mrs. American Kestrel scanning the agricultural fields --
And Mr. and Mrs. Northern Shoveler in flight --
And a few of the ubiquitous Canada (not Canadian; they're not all from Canada) Geese, with the lead one honking --
I spent the rest of the day recovering from sore legs resulting from carrying 5 pounds of mud. The next day, the 10th, I spent most of my time on the mesa south of Overton, between the town and the north entrance to Lake Mead National Recreation Area. The vistas were fantastic --
Those are the snow-topped Virgin Mountains; the tortured, folded hills below me; and in between both is the flat area of the Overton Wildlife Area. It's high-desert scenery at its best.
The next day, the 11th, my friend and I took a day trip up to Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge, about 70 miles northeast of Overton. It's part of a major flyway for migrating birds and in spring and autumn can have some amazing numbers of feathered friends. We went on a cold and breezy day, so the birds were hunkered down, but we still managed to see a Bald Eagle high up in the air, and 2 Golden Eagles -- alas, all not very photographable. But the Pahranagat Valley is quite scenic, and the water there is a precious resource in this high-desert area.
The refuge was a bit of a bust -- but this next area more than made up for it, and the long drive. These are examples of Great Basin petroglyphs, which are created by pecking, abrading scratching, or a combination of these methods. And unfortunately, in this area there are obvious areas of contemporary defacement, which is a constant danger to areas such as this which contain priceless pieces of our ancient past. For many of these ARE ancient -- the scenes with the atlatl, a spearthrowing device, probably date back to at least 500 A.D. The designs can be divided up into zoomorphs -- animals, reptiles and insects -- and anthropomorphs, or human figures, of which this site has some great and quite unique examples. So, here is a peek into our distant past --
Here's an atlatl in the back of a bighorn sheep. The atlatl enabled the hunter to throw a spear at a longer distance then if he didn't have one. Atlatls and spears were replaced by bows and arrows around 500 A.D., so this "petro" was probably created before then ---
The next petroglyph panel is dominated by the 3 Bighorn Sheep at the top; Bighorns were the only large game found in this area, so were the main food source for meat. One theory associates sheep petros such as this with hunting magic; other theories have nothing to do with hunting game. There is a permanent source of water near these petros, and other rock art in the area associates sheep with rain-making. The truth is, we'll never know for sure what they mean --
I had to take photographs from a guide of these next 2 petroglyphs, as they're somewhat faint. But they're anthropomorphs -- human figures. This figure is called "Hallelujah Man" because of his upraised hands --
Here he is, along with another possible human representation to the left --
A closer look at the "Hallelujah Man --
And the next one, well, it's obvious what it -- she -- is. She's been named the "Vavavavoom Woman". She's very difficult to see; the guide says she's best seen in bright sunlight, but my friend and I continually went on past the rock she's on without seeing her. And we still couldn't recognize her even when we pretty much looked directly at her; she just looked like an unrecognizable pattern in the rock. Then when I passed by the rock, I cast that area in shadow -- and we saw her. She's still faint, but you can make her out -- though not, as the guide says, in bright sunlight --
And now ---- the "Vavavavoom Woman". Does she represent Mother Earth? Or a particularly well-built woman in the tribe?
A riddle in a mystery wrapped in an enigma -- that pretty much sums up many, if not most, of the petroglyphs of the Southwest. There are those that are common to different tribes, such as representations of certain animals, the sun, and human feet. But what do they mean? As I mentioned with Khota Circus a few posts ago, they can't be mere doodling, for life back then was too harsh for any idle time. The truth is, we'll never know.
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