Even with the moderate monsoon the San Pedro River ran off and on for most of July and August, sometimes for weeks at a time including at least one significant flooding event. Much of the water originated from storms south of the border in Mexico where the headwaters of the river are. It was all enough to carve a channel through the tons of sand that had previously built up at the mouth of Paige Canyon two winters ago and created our little reservoir. The new channel is quite deep and water just flows on through now with only a couple of puddles left behind that dry up over a few days or a week. Downriver is like walking on a paved road, the mix of sand and clay forming a solid crust that stretches miles, even covering an area of ephemeral flow that tends to emerge when the trees go to sleep for the winter and aren't consuming the subsurface water. A bear did some hopeful digging in that area recently looking for water without luck. I'll check again in November / December when the cottonwood leaves are turning to see how it looks. Upriver on our property is a different story, at least in mid-September; the slowly drying mix of sand and silt doesn't hold weight at all and you sink down six to eight inches in some places. It looks like dry sand on top, but don't let it fool you like it did me.

Vegetation along the river is very full and lush where the river flooded, but elsewhere it was nothing like what it was the summers of 2021 and 2022. The river banks on our property are knee high in Bermuda grass and six to eight foot tall amaranth and Johnson grass. Not to mention the loads of cockleburs that will be a pain this fall and winter. Above the flooded areas, though, is mostly dry leftovers of London rocket mustards from spring. I've only seen one Tithonia plant along the river where we've had whole stands in the upper Bosque during wet summers.

I would rate the wildlife quantity and diversity this summer as moderate as well, except for a few standouts. Any attempt to drive on Cascabel Road during morning or evening became a game of how to avoid the randomly dashing desert cottontails every 50 feet. I finally concluded that once you get up to a certain speed, a random number generator kicks in and even the bunnies have no idea which way they will dash. Slow down enough so that your vehicle is no longer a chasing coyote, and semi-sane / predictable movement returns.

Gila monsters were also quite prevalent on the road. In one case, a Gila dashed out onto the road from the left and I had to swerve to miss it. As I drove past, the pink and black monster had its mouth wide open hissing at me warning me that it could swallow my '93 Honda Civic in one bite.

Roadrunners were also in increased numbers for most of the summer, no doubt contributing to the lower numbers of lizards around our properties. There were a lot fewer tarantulas as well, along with generally lower numbers of insects. No-see-ums and thrip-like insects were very annoying, but the gnats really didn't show up until August. I never saw a millipede, which is unusual, though we did dig up a few centipedes when removing mesquite from the pastures.

Seeing my first bobkittens and Mississippi Kite were definitely highlights. I also succeeded in identifying the Devil's Claw flower and plant, something that has generally escaped my attention until a seed pod wraps itself around my ankle during the winter.

Snakes were very present this year, with rattlesnake encounters up during the warming and cooling seasons. While I am generally comfortable around the rattlesnakes in this area, I did have one close encounter that was my fault and unacceptable. Thankfully, the buzzer headed off in the other direction, no doubt swearing in parseltongue the whole time. Aside from that incident, I love knowing them enough that I can live in their world with very few conflicts of interest. I don't want them around my living spaces and they don't want to be around me. So far, making it clear what I consider to my space and not providing inviting spaces for snakes has made for a generally peaceful coexistence.

A decent number of toadies showed up with the rain storms. We were serenaded by spade foot toads at night and a Sonoran Desert Toad (Colorado River Toad) liked to show up in our outdoor shower and stretch out in the leftover puddle that doesn't quite drain after we are done in the evening. The second person showering had to step carefully, especially if it was getting dark. I only saw a couple of small red-spotted toads this year, though.

As the grasses and other seed-bearing vegetation matured, the banks of the river filled with various types of sparrows and immature / female buntings. Hard-to-identify juvenile accipiters would cruise over the tops of the grasses looking to snag a feasting little-brown-job.

A last big storm generated from the remnants of a tropical storm from the Pacific Ocean battered us in mid September and filled the river again for the last time this season. Purple martins and a conglomerate of swallows took advantage of the last standing water before they moved on, swooping about like crazy fighter pilots. A swift joined in as well.

Butterflies were conspicuously missing this year until the end of Monsoon. A large number of Pipevine Swallowtail eventually emerged to take advantage of the clammyweed and morning glory along the river. Not a lot of diversity. I've only seen one American Snout. One year, you were afraid to breath in with your mouth open, they were so thick.

Having the nights cool off again is a relief, but along with that is the knowledge that the Gray Hawks will be leaving soon. I both want to follow them and stay to see who will come this fall to feast on the Johnson grass seed now that it hasn't been completely mowed down by rogue cows.