I am once again fighting with my computer and have been unable to complete a blog posting in over a week. But (after 5 consecutive visits to T-Mobile) I think I am finally able to send this out into the ethersphere.
It was a while since I had been to the Desert Museum and when Lynda suggested we spend a few hours there I was ready.
This is a real gem of a museum-zoo-botanical garden. The docents are all volunteers and always ready to show off the ugliest of critters. The one in front of her is not real but I had two very real ones in my yard at my house....
...that regularly scared me enough to keep my heart pumping. I learned from a neighbor that Gila Monsters are so territorial that they cannot be moved from where they live without condemning them to depression and even dying. Obviously I do not suffer the same malady.
Snakes are somehow fascinating to me...
...as long as they are behind glass.
This warm winter is bringing the snakes out into the desert earlier then usual.
Hiking in the winter was relatively safe due to their hibernation but that seems to no longer be the case. Just one more adjustment due to climate change.
This guy was so moist and glisteny I felt I could get warts just by looking at him.
I consider him to be Public Enemy Number One.
It is strange how scorpions can be almost invisible until a blue light shines on them.
He did not look real--but he moved.
And I had these in my yard too. Tarantulas became less frightening to me after a year or two in the desert. They move slowly and are rather docile--hardly the boogiemen we have heard about all our lives.
This little guy was totally fascinated by the snake on her arm. What resides in the genes of little eight-year-old boys that they are so attracted to creepy things?
The mountain goats paraded for us...
...then paused at the top so we could get our pictures.
It's a tough job but someone's got to do it.
The cactus are beginning to bloom--a full month early.
As we were leaving the museum I saw this sign and I mentioned that I thought it was totally unnecessary. I put my camera away and Lynda and I got into the car and headed out. And just as we reached the entrance a coyote strolled slowly and nonchalantly across the road in front of us. I am sure he was hoping for a handout. And I was wishing for my camera.