September 5, 2019 by mattbuckinghamphotography

A Big Bowl of Lonestar Biodiversity

A Pine Warbler perches on the bare twigs of a winged elm in the understory of a mature pine/oak/hickory upland.

The last month or so here in East Texas has been plagued by a barrage of heat waves that have made spending time in the woods unpleasant at best, to downright miserable at worst. Because of the oppressive heat, and a variety of events in my personal life beyond my control, I have found myself lacking in motivation to pick up the camera and get out and explore. I think that slumps like this are only natural, and I have certainly experienced them in the past. Fortunately, I have always overcome them, and returned to this passion that has helped to shape the purpose that I feel in this thing we call life.

Thinking that a trip down memory lane might help rekindle the flame of my passion for the natural world, I recently went back through the many images I have taken this year. In doing so, I realized that there were a great many images that I have captured during short day and weekend trips that I had not yet posted.

So I decided to start writing, and in reliving these memories I found my spirits instantly lifted. Instead of breaking these images out into smaller posts I decided to make one giant post covering the last several months. So I invite my reader to settle in and enjoy this brief tour of some of the incredible biodiversity that can be found in the Lonestar State.

Though this post was meant to cover the first half of this year, my first post actually comes from December of last year, when Caro and I went out on a salamander hunting excursion with our friends Scott and Ashley Wahlberg. We struggled most of the day, until Ashley spotted this handsome male Spotted Salamander (Ambystoma maculatum) under debris at the bottom of a dry vernal pool. I titled the shot “Ancient Ritual”, and staged it to look like the salamander was just emerging to undertake his annual migration to the breeding pool of his birth, an event that his ancestors have undertaken for millennia.

A Spotted Salamander emerges following a warm winter rain and begins his migration to his ancestral breeding pond.

A few days into the new year, Caro and I took a trip to Galveston. On the way back, I spotted several Roseate Spoonbills (Platalea ajaja) foraging in a tidal marsh in golden evening light. I could not resist the opportunity to try to capture some images of these beautiful, bizarre birds, so I pulled off and trudged into the mud flats. A local fisherman kept warning me of where all of the hidden holes were. Carefully I cradled my camera as I struggled to keep my balance in the muck. Finally as I drew closer I dropped down to my knees, then to my belly, and began to army crawl toward my quarry. The fisherman was kind enough to check on me frequently by shouting “are you ok”? I responded with a simple thumbs up.

I crawled forward through the mud and shallow water until I found myself in the perfect position for a low angle shot in that beautiful light. The spoonbill is such a curious subject that seems so majestic yet awkward at the same time. When I returned to my truck I was literally coated in mud from head to toe. Fortunately I had a change of clothes, and was able to clean up a bit and return home, smiling from the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

A Roseate Spoonbill forages in shallow tidal flats adjacent to Galveston Bay.

During the height of January, when little else was active, I turned my lens toward wintering songbirds. I spent several days at James Childress’s farm, where his land management activities have produced excellent habitat for a variety of species, a few of which are highlighted below.

An American Goldfinch perches on the fruit-bearing twigs of a deciduous holly.

A Pine Warbler forages in the limbs of a mature loblolly pine.

A Dark-eyed Junco pauses for a moment on a branch of an old post oak.

A White-crowned Sparrow on its wintering grounds in Angelina County.

By early February in the Pineywoods, winter begins releasing its grip, and a few brave floral souls emerge to reveal their blossoms to the world. One of the earliest, and one of my all time favorite wildflowers, the bloodroot, blooms in the deep woods. Likely never common in the Pineywoods, it has become exceedingly scarce over the last century due to a combination of habitat loss and over-harvest for its medicinal qualities.

Bloodroot grows from the crook of an old tree root.

A Bloodroot flower emerges from the dense leaf litter.

James and I also spent a few days photographing birds at the Pineywoods Native Plant Center on the Stephen F. Austin State University Campus. It includes a remnant patch of near old growth forest, and provides excellent opportunities for wildlife observation. The following images were all made at this special place.

A Female Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) perches in a dense tangle of dried vegetation.

A White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis) blends in to the winter browns of a prairie remnant.

A Pine Siskin (Spinus pinus) forages on a branch of a blooming Eastern redbud (Cercis canadensis).

A Carolina Chickadee (Poecile carolinensis) pauses among dense winter vegetation.

A handsome White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis) out and about on a chilly early spring morning.

A Mourning Dove (Zenaida macrura) forages on the forest floor.

As February gave way to March, spring was in full swing in the Pineywoods. Caro and I spent an afternoon hiking in the Sam Houston National Forest. Pollinators like the Falcate Orangetip (Anthocharis midea) were out in droves, and the violets were putting on a show on the forest floor.

A female Falcate Orangetip nectars on the blooms of springcress (Cardamine bulbosa), on of its host plants.

An Early Blue Violet (Viola palmata) blooms on the forest floor.

I spent one March day exploring the Columbia Bottomlands, a unique forested community in southeast Texas, where I observed a number of interesting wildflowers in bloom, including the Purple Rocket (Iodanthus pinnatifidus), which has a peculiar distribution. This member of the mustard family (Brassicacea) can be found in many central and eastern states, including much of Arkansas and eastern Oklahoma, however in Texas it is only known from a few southeastern and south-central counties.

Purple Rocket blooms in profusion in a coastal upland forest.

I also found numerous Zigzag Irises (Iris brevicaulis) and a proliferation of Butterweed (Packera glabella) in bloom among the sedges and other wetland plants in these unique hardwood bottoms.

Zigzag Iris blooms in the understory of the Columbia Bottomlands.

Butterweed and Raven’s-foot Sedge (Carex crus-corvi) bloom in a forested wetland in the Columbia Bottomlands.

Back in the Pineywoods, I set out to explore a high quality forested seep where I found the imperiled Texas Trillium (Trillium texanum) coming into bloom.

The rare Texas Trillium blooms in an old growth forested seep.

In early March, I visited our good friends Susan and Viron’s property for our annual botanical bonanza looking for rare spring ephemeral wildflowers. As usual, we were not disappointed. The following three images are from the outing.

The tiny Southern Twayblade (Listera australis) is one of the earliest orchids to bloom in the Pineywoods.

The delicate blooms of a Wood Rush (Luzula sp.) are best observed up close.

Leaves of Cutleaf Toothwort (Cardamine concactenata) and Yellow Trout Lily (Erythronium rostratum) decorate the forest floor. I find the leaves of these species just as interesting as the blooms.

Texas is known for its roadsides brimming with bluebonnets, however wild, native populations of these dainty lupines can be hard to find, particularly in the Pineywoods. I was happy to find and photograph what I believe to be truly wild populations of the Sandyland Bluebonnet (Lupinus subcarnosus) in Houston and Rusk Counties this spring.

A Sandylands Bluebonnet blooms in a sandhill forest in the Pineywoods.

While taking a pit stop on our way to visit my family in Houston, I spotted a brilliant creamy-looking pink and yellow Rosy Maple Moth (Dryocampa rubicunda) clinging to a building wall, having been drawn in the night before by artificial lights. These members of the silkworm moth family (Saturniidae) are wide-ranging in the eastern U.S., however I only occasionally encounter them in Texas. I gently moved it from the building to a nearby patch of woods in hopes to increase its chances for survival and reproduction.

The Rosy Maple Moth is one of our most colorful moths.

Last year my friend Jared Barnes told me about a population of Prairie Celestials (Nemastylis geminiflora) that he discovered last year deep in the Pineywoods. This spring calciphile is common throughout much of central Texas, where calcareous soils are more prevalent, however it is quite rare in East Texas and western Louisiana, so I was thrilled at the chance to see and photograph it on my home turf. I got the chance in late March, when I visited the site that Jared told me about and found it in full bloom.

Prairie Celestials bloom in a remnant prairie in Nacogdoches County.

On March 30, 2014, I married the love of my life. Five years later we spent our anniversary in San Antonio, in a quaint hotel just next to the Alamo. We enjoyed spending time in the historic city and shopping and dining on the River Walk, however I couldn’t resist the opportunity to get a few hours of nature time in. We visited Cascade Caverns and saw the diminutive endemic Cascade Caverns Salamander (Eurycea latitans), and spent some times along the scenic cypress lined creeks and rivers of the region.

The clear waters of Bandera Creek flow over boulders and cypress roots.

I also stopped to explore a small chalk prairie where Lindheimer’s Paintbrush (Castilleja lindheimeri) was blooming in such numbers that it appeared the prairie was aflame.

Lindheimer’s Paintbrush blooms in a chalk prairie in the Texas Hill Country.

The curious blooms of a Lindheimer’s Paintbrush.

The following week, back at home, Scott and I set out in hopes of finding the rare Whorled Pogonia (Isotria verticillata) in bloom, after receiving a tip that they were flowering along the margins of a baygall about 30 minutes from my home. Not far from the site I spotted the quick movement of some manner of skink scurrying through the leaf litter. Fortunately I was quick enough to capture the nimble reptile, and we were excited to see that it was a Southern Coal Skink (Plestiodon anthracinus), a species that is seldom encountered in the state.

A male Southern Coal Skink, a seldom seen denizen of the Pineywoods.

After some searching, we found the pogonias as well! These exotic looking orchids are extremely difficult to spot, but close examination reveals a beautiful, bizarre bloom. The Whorled Pogonia is imperiled in Texas, and has seemingly disappeared from a number of historic locations.

The exotic looking flower of the Whorled Pogonia.

The pogonias were growing near the transition from mesic pine-hardwood forest to a highly acidic forested seep. Nearby we found a crystal clear springfed stream flowing over pure sand.

A creek cuts through mesic pine-hardwood forest.

That same day I would discover my own population of Nemastylis geminifolia in the Pineywoods, this time occurring in a rich calcareous woodland not far from the Louisiana border.

Prairie Celestials bloom in an open, calcareous forest in Sabine County.

A Zebra Longhorn (Typocerus zebra) feeds on the blooms of a Prairie Celestial.

Scott and I also enjoyed observing several other wildflowers in bloom that day, including a personal favorite, Wood Betony or Lousewort (Pedicularis canadensis).

Wood Betony blooms in the forest understory.

Mid-April Caro and I took a weekend trip to the Blackland Prairies and Cross Timbers of North-Central Texas, a region that has fast become one of my favorites in the state. On the way, we stopped at an extensive outcrop of the iron-rich Weches Formation where I had previously seen the rare Clasping Jewelflower (Streptanthus maculatus) in bloom. I was at the site too late for peak bloom last year, and only observed a few individuals in flower. This year I timed it just right, and caught thousands upon thousands in bloom in the glades and stunted woodlands growing on this unique geologic substrate.

The rare Clasping Jewelflower blooms in a remnant Weches Woodland.

Streptanthus maculatus was one of the species on my list of biodiversity goals for which this blog was established. Though I technically checked it off my list last year, and posted a blog about it, I’m taking this opportunity to showcase a few more images of this striking plant.

The rare Clasping Jewelflower blooms in a remnant Weches Woodland.

A closeup of the fascinating blooms of the Clasping Jewelflower.

There were a number of other interesting things blooming over the Weches Formation, including Heartleaf Four-O’clock (Mirabilis nyctaginea) and Louisiana Vetch (Vicia ludoviciana).

Heartleaf Four-O’clock blooms in a forest clearing on the Weches Formation.

The tiny blooms of Louisiana Vetch

When we arrived in the Blackland Prairies, I was able to track down a stunning plant that I had long hoped to photograph – the Blue Wild Indigo (Baptisia australis), a species of the east that barely enters Texas in the eastern panhandle and north-central portion of the state.

Blue Wild Indigo blooms in a Blackland Prairie remnant.

We were fortunate to visit a site that my friend David Bezanson of the nature conservancy describes as “the finest Blackland Prairie remnant in Texas”. I had hoped for better light, but I was in awe in the overwhelming beauty and diversity of the place.

A Blackland Prairie remnant in Collin County.

In a rich woodland of Bois d’arc and elm near the Oklahoma border, I found a striking Texas rarity, the Violet Blue-eyed Mary (Collinsia violacea). We were at the tail end of their blooming season, and I hope to visit again next spring.

Violet Blue-eyed Mary blooms in a Bois d’arc/elm woodland in Grayson County.

Driving along a rural county road in Cooke County, I spotted hints of light blue and purple along the roadside. I could tell immediately that it was a species of hyacinth (Camassia). I initially suspected that they were the fairly common Wild Hyacinth (Camassia scilloides), however in this part of Texas there is another possibility. These turned out to be the much less common Prairie Hyacinth (Camassia angusta), identifiable by the large number of persistent sterile bracts.

Prairie Camas blooms in a rich prairie remnant in Cooke County.

After exploring some area back roads, we stopped at one of my favorite prairie remnants in the state, a small (~4.5-acre) patch of Grand Prairie that harbors incredible plant species diversity.

Prairie Paintbrush (Castilleja citrina) and Hairy Cornsalad (Valerianella amarella) bloom in the Grand Prairie.

In a good year, thousands upon thousands of Eastern Shooting Stars (Dodecatheon meadia) bloom here. In Texas, this species is restricted to the northern Grand and Blackland Prairies, with a few remnant populations in the Edward’s Plateau.

Eastern Shooting Star blooms in the Grand Prairie.

The blooms of the Eastern Shooting Star are among our most photogenic native wildflowers.

The weekend after our trip to North-Central Texas, we found ourselves back on the upper coast. Galveston Bay is lined with a number of high quality saltmarshes that provide a brief glimpse of what the Upper Texas Coast looked like before coastline development and industry took their toll. Today, these remnant marshes are reduced in size, and generally surrounded by subdivisions or refineries. In the image below, a luxury beach-front community can be seen in the distance. Even if the development does not directly impact the marsh itself, it eliminates important buffer zones and reduces biodiversity in the process. The combination of this development and accelerating rates of sea level rise make these special places one of our most imperiled communities.

A high quality saltmarsh holds on in the face of rampant coastal development.

While on the coast we met up with my parents and James and Erin, and spent some time searching for Neotropical Migrants making their way toward northern breeding grounds. Conditions were generally poor during that trip, but we did manage to see a few interesting things, including a male Blue Grosbeak in the process of molting into its adult plumage.

This young male Blue Grosbeak has just begun to attain his adult plumage.

At the famous rookery at the Houston Audubon Society’s Smith Oaks Preserve we saw a number of waterbirds tending to newly hatched chicks.

Neotropic Cormorant (Phalacrocorax brasilianus) chicks beg for a meal.

Two generations of Great Egrets (Ardea alba).

The next morning James and I rose early and made our way to the beach in hopes of capturing some images of Least Terns (Sternula antillarum) in the early morning light. We were fortunate enough to see a number of courting pairs.

Courting Least Terns

We watched as males would capture small fish and present them to the females while vocalizing and performing a ritualized dance.

Courting Least Terns

Near the terns we spotted a number of Wilson’s Plovers (Charadrius wilsonii). These boisterous shorebirds were defending their nests by feigning injury in an attempt to lure would-be predators away from the nests.

A Wilson’s Plover hides among the dune vegetation.

A number of Horned Larks (Eremophila alpestris) were also seen on the dunes that morning.

A Horned Lark among the foredunes.

As spring gradually began to give way to summer, I spent some time photographing some local residents, including a number of Northern Cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis) that regularly visit the feeders in James’s grandmother’s yard.

A fluffed up Northern Cardinal on the branch of an old elm.

A male Northern Cardinal among the leaves of a Southern Red Oak.

While wandering James’s property in search of birds, we spotted an old female Three-toed Box Turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis) in a small puddle formed by recent rains.

An old Three-toed Box Turtle takes advantage of a puddle formed by recent rains.

One of my favorite activities is driving remote, rural roads in Deep East Texas. Such outings usually lead to interesting discoveries. One May evening, while driving through a recent clearcut in Newton County, I heard the unmistakable buzzy trill of a Prairie Warbler (Setophaga discolor). Though clearcuts are certainly unsightly and conjure up thoughts of environmental destruction, during their first few years of regeneration they provide habitat for a variety of birds including Prairie Warblers, Yellow-breasted Chats, Indigo Buntings, Northern Bobwhite and more. When done on a proper scale and rotation, clearcuts can simulate natural disturbances and can enhance the overall health and biodiversity of a forested region.

A Prairie Warbler sings from atop a growing pine sapling.

Mid May is my favorite time to explore the sandhills of the Post Oak Savanna. These interesting habitats are home to a number of endemic species and in May the wildflowers are on full display. Pictured below are Eastern Prickly Pears (Opuntia cespitosa), and the rare endemic mints Brazoria truncata var. pulcherrima and Rhododon ciliatus.

The brilliant colors of a Post Oak Savanna sand “blowout” in spring.

One morning, while I was preparing breakfast, Caro rushed in from the backyard and told me to come quick. There was a brightly colored Three-toed Box Turtle at the edge of our little vegetable garden. Caro named her Frederick, and we watched as she moved about the yard, picking off slugs and other tasty morsels. Eventually we lost sight of her in a dense tangle of vines at the back corner of the yard.

A Three-toed Box Turtle that Caro found in our yard and lovingly named “Frederick”.

The next day, Caro ran in again, calling for me to “come and see”. This time she had found a female stag beetle (Lucanus placidus) in her shoe!

A female stag beetle (Lucanus placidus) that Caro found in her shoe.

As I was photographing the beetle Caro called my attention to a striking Eight-spotted Forester Moth (Alypia octomaculata) that was nectaring on the Coreopsis blooms in our garden.

An Eight-spotted Forester Moth nectars on Coreopsis blooms.

A few days later, Caro found another interesting beetle in the yard, a colorful Line Buprestis (Buprestis lineatus).

A Lined Buprestis Beetle

My eagle-eyed wife also spotted this little jumping spider (Colonus sylvanus) in our garden.

A jumping spider on a Purple Coneflower bloom in our Garden.

Target Species: White-tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus)

When I added White-tailed Deer to my list of 2017 biodiversity goals, I had a very specific image in mind. Though the image below is not exactly what I had hoped for, I was happy enough with it to cross the species off my list. Caro and I spotted this young buck in a mature Longleaf Pine Savanna one evening, and I managed a few shots before it disappeared among the rolling terrain.

A young White-tailed Deer Buck in a longleaf pine savanna.

Back in our yard, we came across a Fiery Searcher (Calosoma scrutator). Also known as the Caterpillar Hunter, this large predatory beetle is, in my opinion, among the most beautiful insects in the country.

A Fiery Searcher on the hunt in our backyard.

In early June, I found a nice male Eastern Hercules Beetle (Dynastes tityus) near our house. One of North America’s largest and most impressive insects, these beetles inhabit mature forests with abundant hardwoods.

A fine male Eastern Hercules Beetle

A fine male Eastern Hercules beetle.

In late July, our old friend Frederick the Three-toed Box Turtle appeared again in our backyard. Caro spotted her eating cantaloupe rinds from fruit that we set out to try and attract beetles and other insects to our yard.

Frederick returns for a visit

I’ll end this post with an image from early August, the last time I set out into the woods with the intention of making images. I spotted this Green Lynx Spider (Peucetia viridans) feeding on predatory robber fly. The spider had taken an ambush position among the blooms of a Rough Blazing Star (Liatris aspera).

A Green Lynx Spider in ambush mode on the blooms of a Rough Blazing Star.

I am very much looking forward to fall, and hope to set out to capture new landscapes and biodiversity with a renewed passion and sense of purpose.

July 12, 2019 by mattbuckinghamphotography

The Land of Enchantment Part One: Flora and Fauna of the High Plains

Pronghorn Buck

When westward expansion was gripping the nation during the 19th century, the American frontier was not defined by the towering mountains and rugged desert that exemplify the term today, but rather endless expanses of prairie inhabited by millions of American bison, pronghorn, elk, wolves, and grizzly bears. As countless wagons wore ruts into the prairie’s earth, black-tailed prairie dogs kept a watchful eye for badgers and black-footed ferrets, and a chorus of thriving grassland songbird populations filled the air.

Today, the prairie is a very different place, however standing in an un-plowed stretch of prairie in Union County, New Mexico that reached from horizon to horizon, I could imagine what it may have been like. I was overwhelmed in a land that seemed so initially sparse. But here, the diversity is in the details. A diversity of nondescript grasses and small wildflowers, pollinators, and cryptic prairie denizens.

It had been years since I explored the natural wonders of the aptly named Land of Enchantment. New Mexico is one of the most biodiverse states in the country, and contains a wide array of habitat from alpine tundra to low desert. Our ultimate destination in the state was the sagebrush laden foothills around Taos and the high peaks of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Our journey would first take us through some of the finest expanses of shortgrass prairie in the country.

In the prairie around the base of Capulin Volcano, we found large groups of blooming Silvery Lupine (Lupinus argenteus). This species also occurs in Texas, but is rare and confined to a few sites in the Panhandle near the border. These New Mexican prairies, however, were loaded with them.

Silvery Lupine

There are apparently some 11 varieties of Lupinus argenteus in New Mexico, which can make their identification a bit tricky. We found at least two varieties growing in close proximity.

Silvery Lupine

We also found Nebraska Lupine (Lupinus plattensis) blooming here, but its flowers were far past prime. This species has been recorded in the Texas Panhandle as well, but like the Silvery Lupine, is very scarce.

Growing among the lupines were several other wildflowers, including several Wholeleaf Indian Paintbrushes (Castilleja integra). I have always been fond of this genus of hemiparasites.

Wholeleaf Indian Paintbrush

James’s Penstemon (Penstemon jamesii) was also common in this area. This lovely plant is named for Edwin James. James was one of the first anglo naturalists to explore the American West. I strongly recommend reading more on this fascinating and influential figure who discovered, collected, and described many western species.

James’s Penstemon

Near Capulin we found a single Spinystar (Escobaria vivipara) in bloom. Further west, and at a higher elevation in Colfax County, however, we found several. I was thrilled to find this tiny prairie cactus, which would have been essentially invisible if not for the bright pink blooms.

Escobaria vivipara

Growing at 8,000 feet I spotted a sea of blush swaying among the greens and grays of broad meadow. It was Prairie Smoke (Geum triflorum). This iconic prairie plant is named for its puffy achenes which resemble billowing smoke of a distant fire. These can be seen developing in the background of the photo below. Geum triflorum was long used by native cultures as a medicinal plant, and is purported to help a variety of ailments.

Prairie Smoke

Years ago, during my family’s annual trek west, I always looked forward to spotting Pronghorn (Antilocapra americana) in the vast plains of eastern New Mexico. This year we saw more than I ever remember seeing back then. It was no doubt due in part to Carolina’s eagle eyes, however I like to think that the species is continuing its nearly century long rebound from near extinction in the early 1900s.

When Europeans first visited the West, there were an estimated 35 million pronghorn roaming the plains. By the turn of the 20th century, it is estimated there were barely 10,000 left. That’s a population decline of over 99.999%. Like the American Bison, the open country that the pronghorn called home made them easy targets for hunters. Fortunately, in the 1920’s conservation efforts began to protect both the species and its habitat, and today some estimates put the population at nearly a million.

Pronghorn Buck

The pronghorn is a species that is at the same time, beautiful, bizarre, graceful, and gangly. They are supremely adapted for life on the prairie, and for speed and endurance. Adaptations like enlarged lungs, windpipes, and hearts, interlocking grooves in their joints that allow for a unilateral line of travel, and an enhanced circulatory system make them the fastest sustained runners on the planet.

Despite commonly being referred to as antelope, pronghorn are note closely related to true antelope, which are restricted to the Old World. They are the only surviving member of the family Antilocapridae, which evolved in North America during the Miocene. They’re extreme speed and endurance is believed to have evolved as a defense against the extinct American cheetah, which would have been a major predator of their habitats. Today there are no predators that can come close to matching an adult pronghorn’s speed or endurance in open country. Enlarged eyes with a field of vision of nearly 320 degrees that can spot a potential threat two miles away ensure that a potential predator would rarely get the chance to test this theory. I can’t help but think that old pronghorn bucks know this, as they rarely seem concerned with my presence, even in areas where they would seldom encounter humans. When I drop low to the ground, however, their tone changes as can be seen in the intense stare of the huge buck pictured below.

Pronghorn Buck

I could have easily spent a few days photographing pronghorn for as long as the light would allow. We saw bachelor groups, solitary dominant bucks, and does with fawns. This iconic species is as good a poster child for the prairie as any, and I can’t wait to be in the speedgoat’s presence once more.

The prairie saved one of her best surprises for last. After spending a few days in the vicinity of Taos, we made the return trip through the high plains toward home. While driving a remote stretch of prairie road I heard Caro call out “FOX!” I glanced in my rear view in time to see a pair of tawny, house cat sized creatures. Turning round, we were able to fix our gaze on a pair of Swift Foxes (Vulpes velox) lounging near their burrows. We watched them for some time, and I captured a few documentation photos. I had hoped to approach a bit closer for higher quality images, but they were quick to retreat to their burrows. We waited for some time, but the wind was not with us and we soon concluded it was a futile attempt. We left content in having captured a glimpse of this elusive prairie denizen.

Swift Fox

My parting shot for this blog entry is an image of a double rainbow taken after we passed through a late afternoon thunderstorm. The cool air, smell of wet grass and earth, sound of distant thunder, and broad view of the prairie perfectly sum up the magic I felt here, at the western edge of the Great Plains.

Double Rainbow

April 16, 2019 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Spring in the Desert Part 3: The Marathon Basin

4N1A2370

An hour or so north of Big Bend National Park, nestled between the Stockton Plateau and the Eastern Front Ranges of the Trans-Pecos lies a unique geoecological area with floral and faunal associations that seem out of place in the otherwise semi-arid desert scrub that surrounds it. The Marathon Basin, at is is commonly described, is surrounded by a series northeast trending ridges known as the Marathon Uplift, which contains a unique geology important to a suite of endemic, endangered species.

The Basin’s most dramatic feature just might be a vast remnant patch of short grass prairie that appears like a vast sea of refuge from the surrounding desert scrub. I always look forward to seeing this prairie and its residents. This spring we were fortunate to see a group of Pronghorn (Antilocapra americana) among the undulating grassy ridges.

Pronghorn Buck

The star attraction of the Marathon Grasslands, however, is the massive prairie dog town. Here a thriving colony of Black-tailed Prairie Dogs (Cynomys ludovicianus) entertains visitors to their prairie realm with their inquisitive nature, comical antics, and high-pitched alarm calls.

Black-tailed Prairie Dog

South of the town of Marathon exist a series of ridges with conspicuous exposed layers of multi-colored rock known as Caballos Novaculite. Primarily composed of chert, this formation is the same as the Novaculite outcrops in the Ouachita Mountains of Oklahoma and Arkansas, located hundreds of miles to the east, and both exposures originated from a collision of the land masses Gondwana and Laurentia in the Late Paleozoic. The quartz present in the Caballos makes the rocks extremely hard and often sharp.

Caballos Novaculite Outcrops

The Caballos Novaculite is home to three species of endemic cacti, all of which are entirely confined to this small portion of Brewster County. Two of these species, Nellie’s Cory Cactus (Escobaria minima) and Davis Hedgehog Cactus (Echinocereus davisii) are Federally Endangered. Both species have suffered heavily from over collection and as a result are now entirely confined to private land.

We were fortunate enough to observe several Echinocereus davisii plants in bloom. This is one of the smallest cactus species in the world, rarely reaching heights greater than an in and a half. They are almost entirely hidden beneath grasses and other vegetation growing among the Novaculite, rendering them practically invisible. Only when the small yellow-green flowers emerge in early Spring to they become visible.

Davis Hedgehog Cactus

The Marathon Basin and Uplift are bordered to the northwest by the Glass Mountains. The lower slopes of this range are dominated by typical Chihuahuan Desert Scrub, where we observed a number of interesting plants in bloom, including Woolly Locoweed (Astragalus mollissimus), Feathery Dalea (Dalea formosa), and Downy Paintbrush (Castilleja sessiliflora).

Woolly Locoweed

Feathery Dalea

Downy Paintbrush

Downy Paintbrush

In my humble opinion, no trip to the Big Bend Region is complete without a stop in the Marathon Basin. It serves as a reminder of the staggering diversity of the Trans-Pecos, and a humbling exposure to the wide open spaces that West Texas is famous for.

March 27, 2019 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Spring in the Desert Part 2: The Super Bloom

Texas Rainbow Cactus

In the absence of rain, this place may seem some endless sea of stone, only occasionally broken by scattered shrubs, cacti, or other thorny things. In the hottest and driest of times it is easy to think that life shuns this place. But such thoughts could not be farther from the truth. The Chihuahuan Desert in the Big Bend region is one of the most biodiverse arid places on the planet. Perhaps there is no better time to witness this biodiversity than early spring following a wet fall and winter. Fueled by life-bringing moisture, countless billions of seeds germinate and send up a staggering array of flowers from the parched soil. Perennial species, including cactus, also react to the increased moisture by concentrating energy into blooming en masse, painting the desert in a rainbow of colors, and shattering its stereotype as a barren wasteland.

After an incredible day exploring Black Gap, Caro and I set out early to Big Bend National Park in order to avoid the spring break crowds. We arrived at the Panther Junction visitor center right as it opened so that we could explore the book store and refill some of our water bottles. Within 30 minutes, the place was overrun with a variety of characters, all from different walks of life, seeking different experiences, yet united in their admiration for this incredible place.

Wanting to avoid the bulk of the crowds, we opted to explore some remote 4X4 roads, which would offer ample opportunities to explore a variety of habitats. It was a good choice, and aside from a few vehicles before lunch, we had countless acres of wilderness to ourselves.

As the day began, we stopped to admire an explosive bloom of Bicolored Mustered (Nerisyrenia camporum) in the dry bed of Tornillo Creek. The blooms are strongly fragrant and filled the spring air with their sweet aroma.

Nerisyrenia camporum Super Bloom

In areas adjacent to the creek we found the mustard blooming alongside some towering Big Bend Bluebonnets (Lupinus havardii) and a variety of other wildflowers, offering a varied sampling of the palette that the desert was soon to provide.

Spring in the Desert

We had seen our fair share of Big Bend Bluebonnets in Black Gap, but Big Bend provided a whole new perspective to this striking plant. The sky was overcast all day, providing a soft light that made landscape photography a challenge, but provided excellent opportunities to capture intimate portraits of many of the incredible wildflowers that we encountered. Some of the bluebonnets we encountered were approaching four feet in height, and sported racemes bearing dozens of flowers.

Big Bend Bluebonnet

While passing adjacent to a series of gypsic hills, Carolina shouted for me to stop. This is usually a good thing, and means that she has spotted something interesting. And indeed she had. She pointed to bright yellow spot on a hillside hundreds of meters away. How she spots these things, I’ll never know. Moving closer to investigate, it soon became evident that it was a healthy Texas Rainbow Cactus (Echinocereus dasyacanthus). This is a species that I included in my list of biodiversity goals. I have seen the plant many times, but had never experienced the splendor of its blooms. I was concerned that we were too early, but I was very wrong. We would find many plants in full, glorious bloom in the lower elevations of the park.

Texas Rainbow Cactus

I had always presumed these cacti had a preference for limestone, but we saw them in a variety of substrates throughout the day. They have some of the most striking blooms of any cactus. They are generally lemon yellow with green throats, and may approach 4 inches across.

Texas Rainbow Cactus

Interestingly, their common name is not derived from their stunning flowers, but rather the rusty-colored bands decorating their stems. Seeing many old, multi-stemmed individuals in such a remote setting was certainly one of the highlights of the trip.

Texas Rainbow Cactus

A few of the plants contained Cactus Bees (Diadasia sp.) feeding on nectar from deep within the blooms. The bees’ hairy exoskeleton served as the perfect vessel for trapping pollen, ensuring that the insects would play their part in propagating future generations of Texas Rainbow Cactus.

Cactus Bee

There were other species of cactus in bloom as well. Perhaps the most conspicuous were the large colonies of Purple Prickly Pears (Opuntia azurea), which were just coming into flower. The blooms of most cactus species open in late morning or early afternoon, and close by late afternoon. It was a wonderful thing to see these prickly pear flowers open to reveal their bright red centers to the world.

Purple Prickly Pear

While it was easy to get lost in the grandeur of endless expanses of blooming wildflowers, pausing to admire more subtle, intimate scenes proved just as rewarding. I photographed the Edward’s Hole-in-the-Sand Plant (Nicolletia edwardsii) and Sand Bells (Nama hispidum) just after the latter’s flowers opened for the day.

Edward’s Hole-in-the-Sand plant and Sand Bells

The combination of wildflowers was endless. Below Pope’s Phacelia (Phacelia popei) can be seen blooming alongside Bicolored Mustard along an ephemeral drainage.

Pope’s Phacelia and Bicolored Mustard bloom along an ephemeral drainage.

The kaleidoscope of colors continued in this rocky wash, where I spotted several nice clumps of Havard’s Fiddleleaf (Nama havardii), known in the United States only from the Big Bend region.

Havard’s Fiddleleaf and Bicolored Mustard bloom in a gravelly wash.

It seemed like around every bend in the road there was some new fusion of color to be discovered. One of my favorites was the combination of the yellows of Desert Marigold (Baileya multiradiata) and the purples of Nama hispidum blooming among scattered Ocotillo and Creosote Bush.

Baileya multiradiata and Nama hispidum bloom in profusion.

Deep in the interior of the park, we explored a series of limestone ridges and shale slopes on hills rising from the Rio Grande. Here we found many interesting, uncommon species like the Lyreleaf Jewelflower (Streptanthus carinatus). This denizen of the desert southwest bares purplish blooms in Texas, but they are primarily white and yellow as one moves further west in their range.

Lyreleaf Jewelflower

We found several Candelilla (Euphorbia antisyphilitica) plants growing in the same general area. This interesting succulent has a long history of use by human cultures. As the specific epithet suggests, it was long used to treat sexually-transmitted diseases. It has also been extensively harvested for a wax produced from its leaves. This wax has been used for a variety of applications, including use as a food additive for glazing agents, as an ingredient in lip balm, and perhaps most famously as a binder for chewing gum.

Candelilla

On one of the limestone slopes Caro spotted a beautiful Texas Rainbow Cactus that sported bright orange flowers as opposed to the more typical lemon colored blooms. We saw a few of this color, and even a few with a pinkish tinge.

Texas Rainbow Cactus

Caro’s sharp eyes also spotted the diminutive Duncan’s Foxtail Cactus (Escobaria duncanii), a rare cactus is primarily confined to a very narrow range near the Rio Grande in Big Bend and adjacent Mexico, though there is an isolated population in New Mexico. This cryptic cactus grows from fissures and crevices in the limestone and is one of the first cacti to bloom in spring. By our visit in early March, many of the blooms were already spent.

Duncan’s Foxtail Cactus

Another cactus I had really hoped to see was Warnock’s Pineapple Cactus (Echinomastus warnockii), named for the famous botanist and pioneer of the flora of the Trans-Pecos, Barton Warnock. We actually saw several with closed blooms in the early afternoon, however this species opens later than most and we couldn’t wait around. Fortunately Caro spotted one growing in a clump of dried grass on one of the limestone slopes a couple hours later. Like many cacti of the region, E. warnockii is known only from West Texas and adjacent Mexico.

Warnock’s Pineapple Cactus

Those limestone hills were full of a diversity of cactus! Caro spotted another rare, early-blooming species, the Silver-Lace Cob Cactus (Escobaria albicolumnaria). Consider by some to be a variety of Escobaria sneedii. When investigating the cacti of Texas, one notices a pattern: many species are confined only to the Big Bend region. In fact, this (relatively) small area in West Texas has the highest diversity of Texas in the United States. E. albicolumnaria is another early bloomer, and sports pink flowers that never open fully.

Silver-Lace Cob Cactus

Throughout the day we had seen several clumps of Big Bend Prickly Pear (Grusonia aggeria), another species whose U.S. range is confined to far West Texas. A type of “dog cholla”, this cactus sports very sharp, strong spines that can become the bane of any desert wanderer. Fortunately the bright yellow blooms make up for their pricklier side.

Big Bend Prickly Pear

As the day neared its end we found some clumps of Purple Prickly Pear loaded with blooms and developing buds. Their beauty combined with that of a carpet of composites and Nama, and the Chisos Mountains as a backdrop created a dramatic scene that I felt privileged to witness.

Desert Abloom

Throughout the day we saw several blister beetles (Cysteodemus wislizeni) scurrying across the desert floor. These chunky, iridescent beetles are flightless, and their elytra (outer wings) are partially fused. They were constantly in motion, providing a challenge to photography, but it was a challenge I welcomed as I chased after them, camera in hand, uttering colorful phrases in my frustration.

Cysteodemus wislizeni

While I was busily tending to the beetles, Caro came rushing over to me with her hands cupped one over the other. What she revealed was a large grasshopper, which I believe to be a female Toad Lubber (Phrynotettix robustus). I placed it adjacent to a few plants of the diminutive Matted Fiddleleaf (Nama torynophyllum).

A Glimpse of the Desert Floor

As afternoon turned to evening we once again found ourselves among the overwhelming beauty of vast expanses of Big Bend Bluebonnet. For the briefest of moments the sun broke through the wall of clouds, and illuminated the bluebonnet laden slopes and distant Chisos Mountains.

Land of the Blue

As the light began to fade I thought back on one of the most incredible days I had spent in the desert. Just as I was expecting photography to wind down, I caught a flash of pink in a sandy desert wash. It was a species that I had very much hoped to find: Havard’s Ipomopsis (Ipomopsis havardii), another generally uncommon species unique to the region. I quickly went about photographing it, as daylight was fading fast.

Havard’s Ipomopsis

Though they are small, the colorful blooms are among the most interesting that I have seen.

Havard’s Ipompsis

As I finished photographing the Havard’s Ipompsis, the light faded fast. We spent last light driving through an expanse of volcanic tough that looked like some alien landscape. As darkness set in we still had 10 miles until we would reach pavement. It was an eerie feeling driving through some of that terrain in total darkness. The eeriness did not diminish after we returned to pavement. Shortly after doing so we pulled into a parking area to stretch our legs. Immediately after leaving the truck we heard a pair of Coyotes sounding off. Now I have spent many evenings being serenaded by the mournful calls of “God’s Dog”, and they often deceive one into thinking they are much closer than they actually are. But these were CLOSE. Caro suggested that I turn on the headlights, and as I did we could see the pair just at the edge of the beam’s reach. They trotted across the road and continued into the vast desert beyond.

The experience rounded out a most spectacular day. I leave you with a parting shot, of a splendid Texas Rainbow Cactus in all its glory, thriving in the desert flats below the venerable Chisos Mountains.

Texas Rainbow Cactus

March 21, 2019 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Spring in the Desert Part 1: The Beauty of Black Gap

A monolith of rock rises from the desert floor in Maravillas Canyon

My first trip to Big Bend Country was over 20 years ago, in 1997, having spent just a month as a Texan. We went in August, and it was hot. Hot, intimidating, and seemingly inhospitable – at least in the surface. But despite all of this I quickly fell in love with the land. We watched a curious Gray Fox from the balcony of our room at the Chisos Mountain Lodge. I chased Tarantula Hawks, velvet ants, and Horse Lubbers; and I found the glittering remains of a departed Glorious Jewel Beetle. I marveled at the significant respite from the heat that the mountains provided, and the monsoonal rains that seemed so out of place in this arid landscape.

Since that day I have returned many times, and have been rewarded with incredible discoveries and remarkable experiences. Yet in all these years I had never visited in the spring, one of the most spectacular times to be immersed in the Chihuahuan Desert. I have long wanted to, but have always been somewhat intimidated by the crowds. One thing I love about Big Bend is its remoteness, and the feeling of isolation and insignificance that comes with it. During spring break, which generally coincides with the peak wildflower bloom, the park is flooded with visitors from all around the Lonestar State and beyond.

This year, however, I could not resist. I began seeing reports that Big Bend was experiencing one of the most spectacular Big Bend Bluebonnet (Lupinus havardii) blooms in recent memory. After a short conversation, Carolina and I made the decision to make the trek. I consulted my friend Michael Eason, author of Wildflowers of Texas, and resident of the region. He recommended that we spend a day in Black Gap Wildlife Management Area. Black Gap is just northeast of the park, and we would come to find that it sports a diversity of life and quality of scenery on par with that of the park.

Though I highly recommend exploring Black Gap, I will add a word of caution. At just over 100,000 acres, it is huge and it is very remote. Access to the interior is via high clearance gravel and rock roads, and there are no services and very few visitors. Despite being at the peak time for visitation to the region, we only saw one other vehicle all day. There is no cell phone service, and it would be easy to become stranded, so visitors should come prepared.

Fortunately our visit went smoothly. We arrived mid afternoon to the Stillwell Store. Stillwell’s boasts a large camping area with well-spaced sites that offer a truly isolated feel, despite the large number of spring breakers. They say that they never fill, and will accommodate all campers by opening additional property if necessary. While the store and showers were packed every evening, from our campsite we could barely hear another soul. Stillwell’s is directly adjacent to Black Gap and only 8 miles from the north entrance to Big Bend National Park, and provided the perfect base for our adventures.

We quickly made camp, and ventured into Black Gap. Bicolored Mustard lined the roads and filled the desert air with their sweet aroma. It wasn’t long until we began seeing our first Big Bend Bluebonnets roadside. Once in Black Gap we began exploring desert washes painted by the blooms of millions of wildflowers. The highlights were two species endemic to the Big Bend region of Texas and adjacent Mexico: Phacelia infundibuliformis and Streptanthus cutleri.

Phacelia infundibuliformis

Streptanthus cutleri

There were many more blooms to be seen, but it was growing dark. We returned to the truck and continued on to the river. I had to drive slow, as Collared Peccaries and Mule Deer crossed the road before us, and our headlights reflected in the eyes of countless Common Poorwills sitting in the roadway.

Tired from a long day, we returned to camp where we took advantage of the Stillwell Store’s showers and I boiled hot dogs for dinner. As I was cleaning after dinner I heard Caro call out to me. I knew from the sense of urgency in her tone that she had found something interesting, and she had! In the light of her flashlight I could see a kangaroo rat casually foraging on the desert floor. It was not concerned in the least as I approached with my camera. Unfortunately just after I captured this image it made its way beneath a massive Tasajillo, so close but out of reach of my lens.

I believe it to be a Merriam’s Kangaroo Rat (Dipodomys merriami). This species is very similar to the Ord’s Kangaroo Rat (Dipodomys ordii), and both species occur in this region. Morphologically they are quite similar and are most easily separated by counting toes – Merriam’s have four toes on their hind feet while Ord’s have five. I did not have the luxury of counting its toes, unfortunately, however it is also reported that the two species have slightly different habitat preferences, with Merriam’s occuring on rocky, gravelly soils and Ord’s occurring in areas of loose sand.

Merriam’s Kangaroo Rat

Where there are rodents, invariably there are things that eat rodents. This large Kansas Glossy Snake (Arizona elegans elegans) had extensive scarring on its head and appeared to be blind in one eye. In spite of all this, it seemed very healthy. It would be the only live snake we would see this trip, though we found a freshly hit Western Diamondback Rattlesnake and Western Coachwhip nearby.

Kansas Glossy Snake

That night a few raindrops fell – just enough to draw the smell of earth from the desert and serenade us with a gentle pattering on the rainfly. We woke early the next morning, and made our way into Black Gap. We opted to spend the morning exploring along the paved FM road down to La Linda. There is an old closed bridge across the Rio Grande there, a sign of more prosperous times when it served to transport flourite into the U.S. from mines in Coahuila. Today the bridge is in ruins and La Linda is a ghost town.

While the evening before we had seen a few Big Bend Bluebonnets lining the roadside, today we saw them sprawling across the hillsides in a carpet of blue. It was a sight to behold, and though I knew they could never do this view justice, I couldn’t resist taking a few pictures.

Big Bend Bluebonnets in Black Gap

A short hike from the road provided a spectacular view of the lower canyons of the Rio Grande. Here we found Yellow Rocknettle (Eucnide bartonioides) clinging to the cliffs above the river. Below I watched a group of Cinnamon Teal floating lazily downstream. Taken in by the grandeur of it all, I paused a moment to lose myself in contemplation – a pastime that I find trips to wide open places greatly enhance.

To capture the image below I had to lie precariously on my stomach on a narrow ledge and lower my camera a few feet. I relied on the LCD screen to compose the shot. It may not have been the golden hour for photography, but I was not willing to pass up the opportunity to capture such an incredible moment in time.

Yellow Rocknettle blooms above the Lower Canyons of the Rio Grande.

The Yellow Rocknettle was incredible! We found several large groups blooming on sheer cliff faces. While most were high on canyon walls, well out of reach, a few were low and safe enough to approach. The large, showy flowers may appear virtually any time of year when there is sufficient rainfall.

Yellow Rocknettle

As the sun rose higher in the sky, cactus blooms began to open to the world. We would end up finding 9 species in flower over the course of the trip. In Black Gap, however, we only observed one species blooming – the Lacespine Nipple Cactus (Mammillaria lasiacantha). Like the Big Bend Bluebonnet and Yellow Rocknettle, this was one of the biodiversity goals on my list when I first started this blog. Though I was able to photograph this species sans flowers in October 2017, this was my first time seeing the spectacular, albeit miniature, blooms.

Lacespine Nipple Cactus

Lacespine Nipple Cactus

As late morning turned to early afternoon, a thin veil of clouds began passing in front of the sun, creating one of my favorite qualities of light. I took the opportunity to photograph more Big Bend Bluebonnets, whose cobalt hues mirrored the sky.

Big Bend Bluebonnets in Black Gap

Michael had suggested that we drive into the interior of Black Gap to experience Maravillas Canyon, and I’m glad he did. In my opinion, the scenery here was on par with that in the National Park. We left the pavement mid afternoon and ventured down the 4X4 road that led into the canyon. It is 18 miles one way to the river, and though we found the road to be easily passable in my truck, it was rough. I never put it into four-wheel drive, however high clearance was a must.

The road was lined with botanical wonders that only became more interesting and more numerous as we approached the river. Here we found more proliferations of Big Bend Bluebonnet blooming among Lechuguilla, Candelilla, and Creosote.

As the sun vanished down behind the distant canyon walls, we made the long trek back to the pavement in the dark. It was a somewhat eerie feeling being out in the night in the middle of so much nothingness, but I welcomed it. It may seem counter intuitive, but I never feel more alive than those times when I’m reminded just how fragile and insignificant my life is, in the grand scheme of things.

Big Bend Bluebonnets and Lechuguilla

Big Bend Bluebonnets and Candelilla with Maravillas Canyon in the background

Big Bend Bluebonnets and other desert flora in Maravillas Canyon

Exploring Black Gap was an experience I will never forget, and one I hope to repeat. It really is the perfect playground for one who loves biodiversity, dramatic landscapes and solitude. That night we arrived to our campsite late and completely drained, but we took in the moonless night sky where the brilliance of countless stars cast shadows across the desert floor. It was another in a long list of humbling experience that the day offered. The next morning we would venture into the park to experience a wildflower bloom, the abundance and diversity of which hardly seemed possible in such an unforgiving landscape.

August 14, 2018 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Wandering through the Cross Timbers and Prairies: Part I

Remnant Chalk Prairie

I must admit, the Pineywoods have always felt like a priority. Beneath the towering trees is where I feel most at home. It makes sense, of course, as it is my backyard. It is where I spent my youth exploring, learning, developing as a naturalist. But as more time passed, and I gained the means to do so, I came to realize that I didn’t have to limit myself so close to home. In other words, what if my backyard were to get a lot bigger?

So I started branching out. Carolina and I made occasional forays to the Edwards Plateau, to South Texas, to West Texas. There remained one ecosystem, however, that I had left woefully unexplored – the vast prairies that dominated the northern part of the state. I don’t mean the fingers of Blackland that reach into the Pineywoods, or the vanishing coastal prairies that I fought hard to protect years ago. I longed to see seemingly endless expanses of prairie, with grasses and wildflowers stretching as far as the eye could see. Places with names like “Grand Prairie”, that conjured up images of a land spectacular for its desolation, where trees would not hide the sun on its daily journey from horizon to horizon. As is the story with so much of the state, such places have become rare. Rare – but not lost.

So in late April Carolina and I decided to set out to explore this foreign land. Being obsessed with our states natural history, many of the plants and communities we would encounter were already familiar to me. We made our acquaintance over countless hours spent pouring over field guides, natural history books, inventories, and scientific papers. But this would be my first time encountering so many of them in the flesh, so to speak.

We began our journey near the southern reaches of the Cross Timbers and Prairies, near where the Lampasas Cut Plains reach their northern extent. Here we found remnant chalk prairies, some extensive with bare limestone outcrops and a bizarre flora that I was not accustomed to. Perhaps the most prominent resident this time of year was the Purple Paintbrush (Castilleja purpurea).

Purple Paintbrush

The dazzling array of color and diversity of plants on the chalk prairies was awe-inspiring. Below the stately Prairie Penstemon (Penstemon cobaea) can be seen towering above Purple Paintbrush and Engelmann’s Sage (Salvia engelmannii). The latter is a Texas endemic.

Prairie View

We stayed in this special place as dusk took hold over the land and the moon shone in the skies above.

Moon over the Prairie

We left as darkness enveloped the land and drove north into the heart of the Grand Prairie. I had hoped that we might catch a glimpse of some crawling or slithering thing in the road in front of us, but the hour-long drive was uneventful. We found a base of operations in a hotel in Decatur. The next morning I rose an hour before dawn and as Caro caught some extra sleep I set out to try to capture some images in the early morning light. Before the sun crested the horizon I captured the image below of Purple Paintbrush and Barbara’s Buttons (Marshallia caespitosa) in bud.

Purple Paintbrush

I had no pre-conceived image that I was out to capture that morning; instead I planned to let my eyes wander, and hoped that the scene might present itself. I enjoy this sort of photography, and it takes me back to part of what hooked me on photography in the first place. These days I seem to always have a shot in mind, or some target that I’m seeking. Sometimes it’s enjoyable to let the image find me for a change. And so this large group of Missouri Evening Primrose (Oenothera macrocarpa) called to me, and I photographed them as the sun crested the horizon. This classic prairie wildflower has huge flowers, and equally impressive fruits, which I unfortunately did not photograph.

Missouri Evening Primrose – Chasing the Sun

As the sun rose higher into the morning sky I returned to the hotel. After breakfast, Caro and I set out to explore the Lyndon B. Johnson (LBJ) National Grassland. Akin to the National Forests of East Texas, LBJ Grassland set aside parcels for multiple uses by the public. Much of the area is suffering from the typical array of factors that result in the ecological degradation of prairies – encroachment by woody species due to a lack of cyclical disturbance such as grazing and fire – but we did find some areas where the prairie was still thriving. It was in one such recently burned area that I caught a flash of pink. It was a species I was very much hoping to see – the Eastern Shooting Star (Dodecatheon meadia).

Eastern Shooting Star

As we explored the LBJ, we noticed several exposed limestone ridges. It was here, I hoped, that I might find the Grooved Nipple Cactus (Coryphantha sulcata) and Beehive Cactus (Escobaria vivipara) in bloom. While we were successful in finding both species, their fleeting flowers eluded us. We were, however, rewarded with a fine consolation prize: several Missouri Foxtail Cacti (Escobaria missouriensis) in bloom.

Missouri Foxtail Cactus

As the sun sank once more toward the horizon, we found ourselves on a high grassy ridge that overlooked a series of eroded canyons. Here we found a large population of Nuttall’s Death Camas (Toxicoscordion nuttallii). This species was on my 2017 list, and while I did find and photograph one individual the previous year, I found this prairie to yield a far more satisfying photographic experience.

Nuttall’s Death Camas

Descending from the high ridge, we entered the fertile valley below. Here we found interesting prairie plants like Buffalo Pea (Pediomelum cuspidatum) and Wright’s Skull Cap (Scutellaria wrightii).

Buffalo Pea

As the sun retreated for the day, I returned to the ridge to capture some landscape images of the Nuttall’s Death Camas in the pink light of dusk. It was a beautiful scene, which we breathed in under the darkening sky.

Death Comes to the Prairie

The next morning we rose early and pushed north toward the Red River, and deeper into the Grand Prairie. As we were admiring the gently rolling terrain andorned with a mingling of prairie and woodland, a flash of pink once again caught my eye. It was another group of Eastern Shooting Stars! The Eastern Shooting Star is a species of open woodlands, glades, and prairie remnants in the eastern and central U.S. It reaches the southwestern extent of its range in the prairies and woodland openings of central Texas. Elsewhere in its range the blooms may be white, but in the Cross Timbers and Prairies they are deep pink. In the Lonestar State, the Eastern Shooting Star occurs in remnant prairies and open woodlands in a few counties in the north-central and northeastern portions of the state, with a few isolated populations in similar habitats in the Edward’s Plateau. It is among the most photogenic flowers I have ever put my lens on.

Eastern Shooting Star

Growing near the shoting stars were several groups of Prairie Paintbrush (Castilleja citrina).

Prairie Paintbrush

It wasn’t long before the sun rose high once again, and we had to be setting out on our return journey to the Pineywoods. We opted to take a series of remote county roads to get back to the main highway. All around the birds were active. Lark Sparrows lined the fence rows while several Upland Sandpipers worked the fields on their northward journey to their breeding grounds. Windows down, I could hear the incessant buzzy call of the Dickcissel. I have never seen such a dense population of these grassland songbirds spread out over such a large area. It seemed like every 100 feet or so a male Dickcissel had staked out his territory and was singing from some shrub or dried remnant of the previous year’s vegetation. Despite the fairly harsh light, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to capture an image of one of these prairie treasures in full song.

Dickcissel

Standing in some of these remnant prairies, it wasn’t hard to transport myself back in time. To a time when the Tawakani and Wichita still made their home here, and vast herds of bison and pronghorn dotted the expansive plain. In these moments it is easy to become frustrated and depressed at what was lost. As I looked out at the swaying grass and palette of prairie wildflowers, I chose instead to focus on what we still have and ensure that it, too, does not become a story of what once was. To learn what you can do to help protect native prairies visit texasprairie.org.

April 24, 2018 by mattbuckinghamphotography

The Biodiversity of the Rio Grande Valley Part 3: Las Estrellas del Sur

It was of the utmost importance that we keep our eyes firmly fixed on the ground – scanning among the stones and parched earth. Important, because we were in the realm of the Star Cactus (Astrophytum asterias), a very rare, Federally Endangered cactus of the Tamaulipan Thornscrub. The plants themselves are often flush with the ground, look like little more than some stone or anomaly in the soil. Their flowers, however, announce their presence to the world in spectacular fashion. Carolina and I had looked for the Star Cactus in 2017 during a trip with my family. While we found several plants, we did not have the good fortune to find them in bloom. This year, however, would be different.

This year we were visiting with our good friends James and Erin Childress. Having developed a search image during our previous trip, I began noticing a few plants scattered about. My attention was soon diverted, however, when James and I spotted the brilliant magenta blooms of a group of Fitch’s Hedgehog Cactus. It was in that moment, as we admired a very different cactus, that Carolina called out that she had found one in flower. Barely able to contain my excitement, I rushed to her. It soon become evident that we had timed this visit perfectly, as the floor of the Tamaulipan Thornscrub before me was decorated with dozens of bright yellow and orange blooms.

Though few known populations exist, where it does occur the Star Cactus can be quite abundant. Today most of the state’s populations are protected and some are thriving. We would be telling a very different story, however, if it weren’t for The Nature Conservancy in Texas. Through the acquisition of land and partnerships with private landowners, The Nature Conservancy has ensured that Astrophytum asterias will not disappear from our state’s diverse flora. In all, the Nature Conservancy through their Las Estrellas Conservation Cooperative has been able to protect over 2,500 acres of Star Cactus habitat, providing safe refuge for thousands of individuals.

Though it is promising, these successes do not mean that the Star Cactus does not still face threats to its existence. While speaking with Sonia Najera, Grasslands Program Manager of the Nature Conservancy in Texas, she informed me that continued development adjacent to protected land is threatening A. asterias populations that have no protection. A. asterias is also under threat from poachers who may collect plants for its popularity in cultivation, and for its resemblance to Peyote, which is extensively collected for its psychoactive properties.

Despite the many threats that they face, I am optimistic for the future of the Star Cactus in Texas, thanks in large part to the Nature Conservancy and dedicated professionals like Sonia.

The day we spent among Las Estrellas in bloom was really the experience of a lifetime. We observed and photographed so many spectacular plants in bloom that it was nearly impossible trying to narrow them down to decide what to post. Below is a small selection of favorites from an unforgettable day in the field.

April 11, 2018 by mattbuckinghamphotography

The Biodiversity of the Rio Grande Valley Part 2: The Cacti

Peyote

Spring in the Tamaulipan Thornscrub is a beautiful, albeit deceiving thing. When the chaparro, huisachillo, and guayacan bloom above a carpet of wildflowers, its easy to forget just what a harsh, unforgiving land this can be. I was bleeding through my jeans when I sat a moment to rest in the shade of a mesquite tree. I don’t think that Carolina, James, or Erin had fared much better. Despite being early March, it was pushing 90 degrees, and the sun was beating down. After taking a long draw from my water bottle, I got up and continued my search. I winced as I pushed through the allthorn, and felt the tasajillo spines pierce my skin. It’s safe to say at that point my spirits weren’t at their highest. But then I heard the voice of my wife as she called out, “I found one, with a flower!” In that moment, pain seemed like an insignificant consideration as I pushed through the tangle of thorns that lay between me and my succulent quarry. I saw Carolina squatting down looking at the base of a large shrub. There, under the shade and protection of a condalia I could see the iconic Peyote in bloom.

Despite being very un-cactus like, the Peyote may be the famous of all cacti. Once fairly common in parts of south and west Texas, decades of over-harvest, poaching, and habitat loss of significantly reduced the populations to the point that today they are a rare sight among the thornscrub. The reason that it has been so persecuted is the psychoactive compound mescaline contained within its flesh.

In fact, Peyote is one of the most well known psychoactive plants. It has been utilized for centuries by native peoples for both its medicinal and hallucinogenic effects. Today Peyote is a controlled substance in the United States due to its use as a recreational drug. It is, however, legal for many native tribes to harvest and consume for ritualistic purposes. And though it may be illegal to harvest or possess, poachers continue to devastate Peyote populations to sell them on the black market.

In the United States Peyote is known only from extreme southern and western Texas. Here it occurs in desert scrub and arid brushland, typically growing beneath dense shrubs. It is one of three spineless cacti in Texas. We were lucky enough to observe some in bloom on an extensive private ranch in the Tamaulipan Thornscrub of South Texas, with the help of our dear friends Toby Hibbits and Connor Adams.

Peyote

In our pursuit of Peyote we observed several other species growing beneath the shelter of their nurse plants. We seemed to catch the Heyder’s Pincushion Cactus (Mammillaria heyderi) in full bloom. This small cactus grows low to the ground, and like many species with this growth habit, is very difficult to spot when not in bloom. In the early spring a single plant may put on a dozen or more flowers, generally organized in a ring along the top of the cactus. It occurs from Mexico through south and central Texas west across eastern and southern New Mexico into southern Arizona.

Heyder’s Pincushion Cactus

While the Heyder’s Pincushion Cactus may be difficult to spot when not in bloom, the Hair-covered Cactus (Mammillaria prolifera) is difficult to spot even when in flower. This species is tiny, with individual stems not much larger than an egg, though they may occasionally form large clumps. The Hair-covered Cactus is known in the United States only from Texas, where it occurs in only a handful of counties in southern and south-central Texas, most of them along the Rio Grande.

Hair-covered Cactus

Though it is superficially similar to the Mammillaria prolifera, the Runyon’s Pincushion Cactus (Coryphantha pottsiana) is easily differentiate when in flower. Like many species of cactus, the taxonomy for Coryphantha pottsiana is a bit cloudy. It has variably been known as Coryphantha robertii, Mammillaria robertii, Mammillaria bella, Escobaria bella, Escobaria runyonii, and Escobaria emskoetteriana. Some authorities still use the latter, though Coryphantha pottsiana seems to be more widely accepted. The Runyon’s Pincushion Cactus is known from northern Mexico and a few Texas Counties along the Rio Grande, where it is generally uncommon.

Runyon’s Pincushion Cactus

While the previous cacti are generally small, the Horse Crippler (Echinocactus texensis) can reach much larger proportions. While most seem to be about the size of a basketball, we saw some that were easily 3 or 4 times as large. They tend to occur in looser soil including sandy alluvium. They are also frequently found growing in the open, away from nurse plants, though its likely that many plants get their start in the less hostile microclimate of a nurse plant. Their impressive spines seem to be an effective deterrent against mammalian predators.

Horse Crippler

Among the most beautiful of all cacti are the hedgehog cacti of the genus Echinocereus, a few of which are endemic to the Tamaulipan Thornscrub of South Texas and northern Mexico. This year our trip coincided with the peak bloom of Echinocereus fitchii, the Fitch’s Hedgehog Cactus. Though they are generally hard to find, in the right habitat they can be abundant, and we saw dozens, blazing the thornscrub with their pink blooms. Like Coryphantha pottsiana and so many other cactus taxa, the taxonomy of Echinocereus fitchii is murky at best. It is considered by many to be a subspecies of the more broadly distributed Echinocereus reichenbachii. For anyone interested in the topic I strongly recommend reading “A hard-to-manage taxon: The Black Lace Cactus (Echinocereus fitchii ssp. albertii)“. Though it discusses the Fitch’s Hedgehog Cactus’s Federally Endangered cousin, it includes a good discussion on the taxonomy of E. fitchii and E. reichenbachii, including characteristics used to distinguish the two.

Fitch’s Hedgehog Cactus

In my opinion, the Lady Finger Cactus (Echinocereus pentalophus) is perhaps the most spectacular cactus native to the United States. Confined to northern Mexico and extreme southern Texas, they can form huge mats under the shade of mesquite and other trees and large shrubs. They have even been found growing upon protected ridges adjacent to the Laguna Madre. Their bright blooms shine neon pink under the midday sun.

Lady Finger Cactus

The bizarre Pencil Cactus (Echinocereus pentalophus) seems less a cactus and more a tangle of dried branches resting at the base of some thorny shrub. That is, until it’s giant pink blooms open in the early spring and betray its presence to the world. Unlike most other members of its genus, the Pencil Cactus produces a massive tuberous roots that aid in water storage.

Pencil Cactus

The highlight our South Texas cactus hunt, however, was finding the Federally Endangered Star Cactus (Astrophytum asterias) in peak bloom, an experience which I will share in my next blog post.

Star Cactus

March 1, 2018 by mattbuckinghamphotography

One in the Hand, Two in Tobusch

Tobusch Fishhook Cactus

This past weekend I spoke at the Native Plant Society of Texas Spring Symposium about photographing the biodiversity of Texas. The symposium was in Austin, and happened to occur during the blooming period of the Federally Endangered Tobusch Fishhook Cactus (Sclerocactus brevihamatus ssp. tobuschii). Though the cacti do not occur particularly close to Austin, it was the closest we would get for the foreseeable future, so Carolina and I decided we would stay an extra night in the Hill Country and try for the cactus the day after the symposium.

We arrive in Austin on Friday afternoon and took the day to explore the city. While big cities are certainly not my thing, I really enjoyed visiting the Texas State Capitol building. Plumes of Cedar Waxwings danced and buzzed among the many trees that decorated the capitol lawn and the redbuds were just coming into bloom. Inside we marveled at the architecture and artwork, and took in the history of the place.

Saturday we rose early and made our way to the symposium. We thoroughly enjoyed the event. I saw some old friends and met a lot of friendly, interesting people. The symposium was over by 3 or so, so Carolina and I took some time to explore the area. Early spring wildflowers were just coming into bloom and Texas Spiny Lizards (Sceloporus olivaceus) were out basking on the limestone, though they did not take kindly to our approach.

In one of the many tributaries of the Colorado River we spotted a pair of Texas Map Turtles (Graptemys versa). The Texas Map Turtle is one of a number of species of turtles endemic to central Texas. This beautiful, fascinating species is restricted to the Colorado River basin. The females are significantly larger than the males, and each sex has specialized head morphology to utilize different food sources. Males feed primarily on aquatic insect larvae and other invertebrates, while adult females feed primarily on mollusks, shell and all. We spotted the pair basking on some rocks, but the tiny male soon sank into the cool clear water. The female allowed a slow approach as she took in the warmth of an early spring afternoon.

Texas Map Turtle

That evening we made our way to San Antonio. I wanted to show Carolina some of the old Spanish and German architecture of the city, and we would be closer to the cacti. We spent some time exploring downtown, and grabbed a hotel on the outskirts of town. The next morning we slept in. Generally speaking, cacti flowers open midday in order to take advantage of the peak of pollinator activity. Our destination was an hour and a half or so west of the Alamo City. The path took us through the scenic country of the western Edwards Plateau, over oak and juniper hilltops, and down through rocky river valleys, where crystal clear water cut through limestone.

We finally arrived at a Tobusch Fishhook Cactus population that I had access to. We began exploring. It wasn’t long until I spotted the first cactus, and it was in bloom! They were smaller than I had expecting, most being only a few inches across. This cryptic species is extremely difficult to spot when not in bloom. In late winter/early spring, however, they bloom, and their striking, albeit tiny, yellow flowers make them ever so slightly more conspicuous.

Tobusch Fishhook Cactus

The story of the Tobusch Fishhook Cactus is an interesting one. In the late 1970s there were only four known populations in two Texas counties. In 1978 a flood hit and wiped out half of these populations in one fell swoop. Fearing that S. brevihamatus ssp. tobuschii would soon be lost forever, the government afforded them protection under the Endangered Species Act in 1979, designated them a Federally Endangered Species. At the time that it was listed it was believed to be restricted to limestone ledges and gravelly stream terraces adjacent to streams in just two Texas Counties.

Tobusch Fishhok Cactus Flowers

Once it was listed, survey and conservation efforts were undertaken in earnest. In the following decades several new populations were discovered, including many on protected land. It also became evident that its habitat preferences were not as narrow as previously thought. Today we know that it also occurs in shallow soils over slabs of limestone within clearings within a broader matrix of oak-juniper and oak-juniper-pinyon woodlands. Many of these areas are well away from streams and their associated floodplains and terraces.

Tobusch Fishhook Cactus

Armed with the knowledge that this diminutive cactus is doing better than previously thought, the US Fish and Wildlife Service proposed to downlist the Tobusch Fishhook Cactus from Endangered to Threatened in December 2016. While this Texas endemic may be more common than initially thought, it still faces very real threats, and a number of historic populations have become extirpated, including the original populations at the time of listing. Even in the face of these threats, today the future for this subspecies looks promising.

Tobusch Fishhook Cactus

That day we would see many Tobusch Fishhooks, most of them in bloom. In the sunny warmth of that spring afternoon the pollinators were out in force. We watched as a variety of butterflies and bees bounced from flower to flower in search of the sweet nectar within. Perhaps my favorite of these propagators were the metallic green sweat bees (Agopostemon sp.). Their brilliant metallic sheen added the perfect compliment to the greenish yellow blooms of the cacti.

Metallic Sweat Bee

The title of today’s blog comes from my good friend Toby Hibbitts. Many of my friends enjoy a good pun as much as anyone should. Last year after a friend posted a photo of the Tobusch Fishhook Cactus, Toby commented that he had always heard that “a bird in the hand is worth two in Tobusch”. He was undoubtedly, and understandably pleased with himself. I can only hope that this species persists for future generations of cactus lovers, naturalists, pollinators, weevils, and bad pun lovers to enjoy.

October 25, 2017 by mattbuckinghamphotography

Living Rocks, Golf Balls, and Other Strangely Named Cacti of the Trans-Pecos.

Living Rock Cactus

Target Species:

Black-tailed Rattlesnake (Crotalus ornatus)

Button Cactus (Epithelantha micromeris)

Lacespine Nipple Cactus (Mammillaria lasiacantha)

Living Rock Cactus (Ariocarpus fissuratus)

The landscape of Big Bend is striking for its vastness; famous for its sweeping views that stretch from horizon to horizon, and seemingly beyond. Stepping into this rugged wilderness, one is immediately hit with the harshness of this land. Brutal conditions created by lack of rainfall and extreme temperatures. It is easy to think that this seemingly inhospitable land would be devoid of life, but despite its harshness it is incredibly diverse, harboring a rich flora and fauna unlike anywhere else on the planet. And as remarkable as this vastness is, equally astounding is the beauty and variety that can be found in just one small patch of the desert floor.

Big Bend, that large peninsula of Texas that dips down into Mexico as it follow a bend in the Rio Grande, has the greatest cactus diversity in the country. It was that diversity that brought Carolina and I to the region this October. Specifically we were hoping to find the Living Rock Cactus (Ariocarpus fissuratus) in bloom.

Big Bend is part of the Chihuahuan Desert. It is the highest, wettest desert in North America, and the most biodiverse in the world. The Big Bend Region includes a multitude of natural and cultural attractions, including Big Bend National Park, Big Bend Ranch State Park, and Terlingua. We planned to explore these areas in pursuit of our succulent quarries, and hoped that our pursuit would bring with it other natural wonders.

Cactus hunting is not without its hazards. Aside from the obvious risk of an errant spine in the skin, there are other denizens of cactus country that pack a punch. One such inhabitant is the Black-tailed Rattlesnake (Crotalus ornatus). Yet despite this creatures fearsome reputation as a venomous marauder, it is one of the most docile snake species I have had the good fortune to encounter.

As I scoured a rock cut in search of spiny succulents, my eyes caught a familiar outline – a striking (as in attractive) Crotalus ornatus coiled at the mouth of a deep crevice in the limestone. It was sitting, I presumed, waiting for some unsuspecting rodent to wander within its grasp. Generally speaking, I think that the threat of rattlesnakes to your average desert-goer is greatly exaggerated, however seeing this beauty hidden away in the perfect hand or foot hold certainly reinforced the old adage “look before you step”. The photo below depicts the animal as I found it.

Black-tailed Rattlesnake

After spending a few moments with the black-tail I continued my search for cacti. After a moment I heard Carolina call out that she had found something. How she spotted them, I’ll never know, but she had found a population of the diminutive Button Cactus (Epithelantha micromeris). This diminutive cactus seldom protrudes more than 2 inches above the rocky substrate it calls home. It occurs primarily in Mexico, but also throughout much of West Texas, southern New Mexico, and extreme southeastern Arizona.

Though they were not in flower, I found these small, rock-like cacti to be quite photogenic. They flower primarily in late winter and early spring. Later in the year an elongated red fruit appears. Caro likened the fruit to a particular part of an excited dog’s anatomy.

Button Cactus

Nestled in a few populations along the Pecos/Brewster County line, one may find a particularly formidable looking cactus. The Icicle Cholla (Cylindropuntia tunicata) is a wide ranging species, occurring in deserts throughout much of Latin America. In the United States, however, it is known only from these few places in the Trans-Pecos of Texas. Admiring the afternoon light filtering through its intimidating spines, it was easy to see how it earned its common name.

Icicle Cactus

After a long day of travelling and exploring we finally made it to Marathon, but not before stopping at an extensive Black-tailed Prairie Dog town, where we admired their antics as the day began to fade. We made our camp in Marathon, and I found myself deep in thought as we laid in our sleeping bags looking up at the twinkling wonder of space. Along with the prerequisite existential questions inspired by such a vista, I pondered on the days to come, and the natural wonders that awaited us.

The next morning I spotted a remarkable creature on the stucco outside the campground’s bathrooms. It was a male Chihuahuan Agapema (Agapema dyari). A lovely member of the giant silkmoth family (Saturniidae). I gently moved it to a nearby tree trunk, where I hoped it would be less obvious to the hoard of House Sparrows that were scouring the area.

Chihuahuan Agapema

As the sun warmed the desert we broke our condensation-laden camp and set out for Big Bend National Park. As we crossed into the park we immediately took notice of the diverse cactus community. The most obvious were the abundant clumps of Strawberry Cactus (Echinocereus stramineus), the heavily armed Eagle’s Claw Cactus (Echinocactus horizonthalonius), and the ubiquitous prickly pears (Opuntia spp.).

Finding the smaller, more cryptic species, took a bit more work. We found the Lacespine Nipple Cactus (Mammillaria lasiacantha) to be quite common. Also known as the Golf Ball Cactus, this tiny succulent is quite similar to the Button Cactus. Cacti of Texas, A Field Guide by Powell, et. al discusses some of the differences.

Lacespine Nipple Cactus

The real reason for our trip, however, was to try to catch the Living Rock Cactus (Ariocarpus fissuratus) in bloom. This bizarre cactus is, in my opinion, one of the most spectacular plants in the country. Hardly recognizable as a cactus, it is spineless, and consists of rough tubercles arranged in concentric rings around a center of soft fuzz.

For most of the year the dull green to gray Living Rock blends perfectly with the scattered stones that litter its limestone home, relying on camouflage rather than piercing spines for defense. For a few short weeks in the fall, however, the limestone hills of the Trans-Pecos explode with color as thousands upon thousands of Living Rocks open their bright pink blooms to the world.

It was just such a scene that I was hoping Carolina and I would encounter in Big Bend. We were soon to find, however, that finding these jewels of the Chihuahuan Desert in bloom would be far more difficult than we anticipated. We spent all day scouring limestone ridges, bluffs along the Rio Grande, and flats in the low desert. We jumped for joy when we found our first plant. We knew we were were in the right area. Even without their blooms, the Living Rock is a beautiful, bizarre plant and photographic subject.

Living Rock Cactus

The desert sun is relentless, even in mid October. Our spirits refreshed by finding our first Living Rock, we pushed on, scouring the bleached white limestone hills as the temperatures flirted with 100 degrees. It was truly brutal, but we knew that the payoff of seeing the blooms would be well worth our suffering. After several hours, and several hundred more Living Rocks sighted, however, the blooms did not come. We were dismayed. We had become proficient at spotting the near invisible cacti on the desert floor, but despite finding so many individuals in several different areas, we did not find a single bloom. I began to think that this would not be the trip that we would see the exquisite flowers of Ariocarpus fissuratus.

Living Rock Cactus

That night we hoped to camp in the park, but alas, all of the campgrounds were full. We debated between staying at a primitive campsite along a backcountry road, or driving to the campground in Study Butte. In the end we opted for the latter, and made the drive from the Rio Grande to Study Butte in the darkness, with nothing but the Common Poorwhills, Black-tailed Jackrabbits, and Western Diamondbacks to keep us company.

When we arrived at the campground, the attendant informed us that there was a party going on that would last well into the night, and recommended that we select a site on the other side of the property. We happily agreed. We made camp, ate dinner, and settled in for the evening. The “party” turned out to be a music festival that blared across the desert until after 1 am, after which the multitude of bikers attending continued to keep us awake for at least another hour. Finally, at some point in the wee hours before dawn we drifted off.

We were awoken around 6 am to gale force wind violently shaking our tent. The temperature had dropped by tens of degrees, and as we stepped out from behind the nylon the air met us with a chill. I must admit, as I broke camp with powerful wind gusts and stinging dust beating down on me, I was hating life. “Not every trip can be a success,” I reminded myself, and I tried to take solace in the incredible organisms we had thusfar encountered, and the memories we had created. In that moment, however, it was hard to do.

We decided to spend the morning and early afternoon exploring the area, before beginning our long journey back to the Pineywoods. The habitat at our first stop looked promising, but after a lack of blooms the previous day, I took care not to get my hopes up. We soon saw our first Living Rock, like a star etched into the talus. I found myself once again admiring their bizarre firm when I heard Carolina shout out in glee. I knew. The memory of the brutal previous night faded as I made my way to her, and saw the bright pink bloom seemingly emerging from nothing. We did it. It was not long before we found another, and another.

Living Rock Cactus

The Living Rock is one of three spineless cacti in Texas. Their lack of spines means that they must rely on camouflage to avoid predation. They also contain foul-tasting alkaloids which likely deter would be predators. These alkaloids, however, have made this plant popular with the Tarahumara and other early tribes and settlers. Though they do not contain mescaline like the similarly spineless Peyote, they contain other mildly hallucinogenic compounds like hordenine, and were reportedly used as a substitute when preferable psychoactive cacti weren’t available. Hordenine also made the Living Rock useful for a number of medicinal purposes, including a disinfectant for wounds and burns.

Living Rock Cactus

Ariocarpus fissuratus is endemic to the Chihuahuan Desert. They barely enter the U.S. in West Texas. They are incredibly tough, even for a cactus. We found that they would grow in the harshest parts of the landscape, often where even other succulents could not survive. They owe their success to their uncanny capacity to store water, and their ability to shrivel away to virtually nothing in times of extreme drought. Indeed, they often times seem to be more stone than plant. Carolina and I admired them for some time, and reluctantly bid them farewell, content with the short moment in time we were fortunate enough to spend among their fleeting blooms.

Living Rock Cactus

There are some songs that serve to inspire us and remind of of those things in this world that are most important to us. For me, one such song is Stubborn Love by the Lumineers, and it came up on the playlist just as the Chisos Mountains began to fade in our rearview. I looked about the desert that stretched beyond the horizons around us, and I was filled with a sense of contentment. It’s easy to feel sad at the end of a great trip, but I take comfort in the fact that no matter where I am, if nature is near there is some great wonder waiting to be discovered.

A Naturalist's Journey

My Quest for Biodiversity

Cacti

A Big Bowl of Lonestar Biodiversity

The Land of Enchantment Part One: Flora and Fauna of the High Plains

Spring in the Desert Part 3: The Marathon Basin

Spring in the Desert Part 2: The Super Bloom

Spring in the Desert Part 1: The Beauty of Black Gap

Wandering through the Cross Timbers and Prairies: Part I

The Biodiversity of the Rio Grande Valley Part 3: Las Estrellas del Sur

The Biodiversity of the Rio Grande Valley Part 2: The Cacti

One in the Hand, Two in Tobusch

Living Rocks, Golf Balls, and Other Strangely Named Cacti of the Trans-Pecos.