fea I >. • - Desert Magazine of the Southwest

Bosque del Apache. The very name brings to mind bands of Apache camped in cottonwood groves, along the banks of the Rio Grande
where it flows south through central New Mexico. Located near the foot of the Magdelena Mountains at the edge of an arid plateau, the
Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge is like an oasis in the desert. It abounds in wildlife as it did in the days of the Apache. Not
only does it offer grasslands, fields, ponds, marshes and wooded areas for its numerous residents; it provides a stopping place on the central
fly way for thousands of migrating birds. There is an abundance of grain: Out of 57,191 acres, 1,500 acres are farmed to produce food for
the wildlife through cooperative farming efforts. One-third of the 1,500 acres is planted in grain, which is left standing as food for the
birds. The other two-thirds are planted in alfalfa, which is harvested by the farmers. The stubble from the alfalfa is left to be used by geese
and cranes through the winter. Annually, over 295 species of birds, as well as many mammals, can be seen here.
Iarrived at the Bosque on a frosty
morning, well before sunrise. With
my early presence, I hoped to witness
the unfolding of dawn and the fantasy
of a colorful sunrise. In the predawn
light, I quietly located a pond
filled with roosing sandhill cranes and
snow geese. There, I set up my photography
equipment and waited.
As the first signs of dawn appear,
snow geese begin stirring out on the
glassy wetlands. Small flocks soon
silhouette the fiery sky. Dawn gives way
to the sun's first rays. Dabblers,
bobbing and feeding in the shallow
water, are in evidence everywhere. The
new day approaches definition as sandhill
cranes awaken at their roosts. The
morning sky is already filling with huge,
undulating formations of white snow
geese enroute to feeding grounds up and
down the Rio Grande Valley. Occasionally,
a gaggle of Canada geese flocks and
lands a short distance away. After a
period of stretching and fussing about,
the sandhill cranes begin taking flight.
First one or two, then in groups of
three, four or five—they leave their
roosts for the grain fields. With an
exciting session of photography completed,
I too take leave, to explore more
of the wildlife and habitat of this place
called the Bosque.
Morning advances. Multitudes of
black birds accent naked tree branches.
Songs are sung while cattails, too,
provide temporary resting places.
Among the grasses, colorful male ringnecked
pheasants dart about, ever wary
of closer investigation, while the ever
present roadrunner offers the persistent
observer a rewarding show of antics.
Clockwise from upper left: The colorful
ring-necked pheasant stands among the
grasses. A mule deer looks on from the
tall reeds. Sandhill cranes roost in the
pond. A coyote feasts on a freshly-killed
snow goose.
Along ditches and in shallow ponds shy
great blue herons continue their silent
vigil, fishing the day away. Late in the
morning I spot a small herd of mule
deer. One doe is especially idyllic, peering
from tall reeds, ears at attention, as
she captures every sound of her photographer.
One doe is especially
idyllic, peering from tall
reeds, ears at attention, as
she captures every sound of
the photographer.
The low winter sun transits the meridian,
and the day warms. I am soon
awarded my most exciting sight of the
day: A coyote, dressed in a fine winter
coat—feeding—standing over a freshlykilled
snow goose. Determined to continue
his feast uninterrupted, my activities
are closely regarded. A Swainson's
hawk, undoubtedly envious of the
coyote's good fortune, also watches
from his perch in a nearby cottonwood.
The coyote finished his meal, seemingly
undaunted by our presence. Looking
content and acting playful, he stalks
away through the grass.
Afternoon brings a glimpse of several
whooping cranes. These magnificent
birds were recently near extinction.
Fostered by sandhill crane parents, a
new migrating flock of "whoopers" is
now being developed. They commute
alongside the sandhill cranes in their
twice-annual migration between the
Bosque and Grays Lake in southeast
Idaho.
As the afternoon wanes, Canada geese
are about, feeding among the grasses
and swimming in the ponds. Shovelers
and other ducks mingle freely and feed
out on the flooded marshes and wet-
lands. Shadows grow longer and the
land takes on yet another dimension.
Bathed in the magical light of late
day, grasses and reeds are accented with
a golden hue. Reflections grace the
mirror-like surfaces of calm waters. To
the west, a restless sun lingers no longer
and slips beyond the outline of the Magdalena
Mountains. Conversations
between sandhill cranes flocking to
roosts fill the night air with their
constant uttering of "krooos." Cranes
decorate a fading twilight as dusk rapidly
approaches—yet I linger. Night
descends and the hushed sounds of
contented waterfowl drift over still
waters. Quietly, I prepare to leave, reluctant
to see the end of a most exciting
day at the Bosque. 0
Jeff Gnass is a 34year-old
freelance
photographer. Curently
working out of
Northern California,
he photographs
the outdoors of western
North America.
His work appears
frequently in Desert magazine, Arizona
Highways, Nevada magazine, American
Forests and the Sierra Club Calendars.
Frances Smith
teaches Chemistry
at Santa Monica
College. She is fascinated
by all areas
of science and
nature study.
Whether she is explaining
the way
molecules escape from the surface of a pool
of water, or describing a visual experience
like snow geese alighting on a pond; her
goal is to share with her students and
readers the excitement she feels about the
world around her.
Desert 35