This one's for the birds

Did you ever have one of those interviews when you’re asked odd questions that one assumes are designed to catch you off-balance and see how you think on your feet? Like, “Here’s a pen.  You have 30 seconds to tell me all the things you can do with it.”  Or, “When was the last time you lied?”  Or, “If you were a bird, what kind of bird would you be?”  I got the last one when I was interviewing for my first job out of undergrad and I believe my answer was “hawk.”  Not as a reference to being a hawk or a dove from a foreign policy perspective (which is a fascinating discussion I enjoy now, but wouldn’t have considered then), but because they seem confident, results-oriented, vigilant and opportunistic, which I assumed might be something a potential employer might want.  And perhaps it was a good answer as I got a job offer, though I went to graduate school instead.


But the question has surfaced in my mind again lately. This is partially because over the past few years I have become fascinated by birds, generally, and have tried to lure as many desirable types of birds (crows, jays, grackles and pigeons need not apply) to various feeders.  This has proven to be fascinating and rewarding as well as endlessly frustrating as I have also battled to keep squirrels, raccoons and, more recently, a bear from raiding or destroying feeders.


After watching all these amazing creatures, though, I think if I were asked the bird question again, I’d choose sparrow because the qualities they exhibit are ones that I would value in friends and colleagues and would hope that they would find in me. So, a few words on those qualities.


Stable. Goldfinches are gorgeous little birds with a beautiful song.  I used to think that they migrated south for the winter as I didn’t really see them around, but it turns out I just wasn’t looking closely enough.  They stay, but they change colors to a more drab olive color for the winter, presumably to draw less attention of predators to them in the stark winter landscape.  Sparrows?  Same look every day of the year.   I’d prefer to know that a friend will always show her true colors, regardless of how uncomfortable that might be.


Adaptable. When was the last time you saw a hawk or a bluebird hanging out in the city?  Doesn’t happen very often.  But sparrows are pretty much ubiquitous wherever you go.  They adapt.  They seem just as happy eating crumbs dropped on a city street as feasting in a freshly harvested field.  Good friends go and grow with you, no matter where life takes you.


Cheery. The song of a sparrow isn’t particularly distinct or pretty, but it’s cheery.  It’s not like the scolding, harsh tone of a blue jay.  It’s hard not to smile when you see sparrows – they’re happy birds.  Who wouldn’t want to be surrounded by friends or colleagues who are perpetually happy, rather than by those who complain or criticize?


Humble. There is nothing fancy about a sparrow.  For the most part, they are drab gray and brown.  They don’t seem to care yet manage to find mates by being who they are, versus flashing some brilliant colors and a cool head crest like a beautiful male cardinal.  I like to surround myself with people who are authentic and comfortable in their own skins.


Non-destructive. Woodpeckers are some of the coolest birds out there.  They’re just different and not afraid to create a little noise while looking fabulous doing so.  And they’re rather creative – I watched a Gila woodpecker last week contort itself to land on a hummingbird feeder and twist its neck around to be able to take a sip.  But they do leave a bit of destruction in their wake (see also the pock-marked wooden trim on our house).  Sparrows are pretty low-impact, leaving behind just a bit of feathers from time to time.  It’s always refreshing to be around people with positive energy rather than those who leave you exhausted.


Hardy. Hummingbirds are fascinating and industrious, but when the first hint of autumn is in the air, they head south.  Sparrows stay in place when the going is tough, just like a good friend is always by your side.


So, if you were a bird, what kind of bird would you be?

Handling a truly prickly 150-year-old

Me (bad pic) and mom with
saguaro and organ pipe cacti

The Desert Botanical Gardens in Arizona, is truly one of my happy places (www.dbg.org).  When we bought a home near Phoenix last year, one of my first actions was to become a member so that I could go as often as I wanted.  So Mom and I headed there last week when she was visiting.

We stumbled upon the relocation of a huge saguaro cactus into the area that will be the Gardens' new butterfly pavilion that opens up in March (yes, you can bet there will be another posting about that since I also love butterflies). 

About saguaros

Before we delve into the relocation process, a bit of background on the saguaro (carnegiea gigantic, in case you wish to refer to it by its scientific name) may be helpful. 

When you think of Arizona and the desert there, this is the cactus you likely picture -- the tall thick ones that often (but not always) have arms growing out and up.  While statistics vary on how tall, heavy and old they can be, I think it's conservative to say they can grow 40-60 feet tall,  measure 18-24 inches in diameter, weigh into the multiple ton range and grow 100-200 years old.  Surprisingly, though, they are a bit slow out of the gate in terms of growth.  There is a Rule of Thumb for the saguaros -- that a 10 year old saguaro is only about as tall as a human thumb.  A docent showed us a 12 year old saguaro that was probably only about two inches tall.  Crazy.

The saguaros only grow in the Sonoran Desert, which is primarily in southern Arizona but stretches just over the border of southern California and northern Mexico.  The combination of its two rainy seasons, generally warm temperatures and soil are key to their survival. 

With limited rainfall, it's important for the saguaro to be able to absorb as much water as possible.  It has a permanent taproot that goes directly down and is only a few feet long to, well, tap into deeper water.  It then has a network of two types of radial roots that are just a few inches under the ground that span out as wide as the cactus is tall.  There are also thread-like roots that develop when it rains to quickly soak up water and then die afterwards so the cactus doesn't have to spend precious resources maintaining them when they're not needed.

The cactus can collect up to 200 gallons of water during rainfall.  The idea that there is water sloshing around within the cactus is a myth.  The structure of the cactus is a series of ribs that are joined by various fleshy materials that store the water in their cells.  When it rains, the ribs and the cell structures of the flesh can expand to accommodate more water, adding as much as 20-25% to girth of the cactus -- kind of like an accordion file.

Like any good cactus, it has sharp spines.  There is more to the large spines than protecting the cactus from being eaten/destroyed by large animals.  They have other functions as well, including directing rainwater to depressions in the cactus, cooling the skin of the cactus, insulating the cactus and re-directing wind.

If you see most saguaros, they have holes in them.  These are generally homes for birds and small animals.  The gila woodpecker usually starts the holes, carving out a space within the fleshy parts.  The cactus responds by forming a sort of scar tissue that protects the cactus from water loss and also creates a hard shell to define the woodpecker's nest.  Other animals like mice move into abandoned woodpecker nests.

The cactus flowers from roughly April through June, opening up at night and closing during the midday heat. (In case you're curious, the saguaro's flower is the state flower of Arizona.)  Fruit develops later if the flowers were pollinated.  It's estimated that each fruit contains about 2,000 seeds.  For a variety of reasons, though, few survive to become a seedling and fewer still to adulthood.

One other structural note.  If you ever see a saguaro with its arms hanging down, this is a result of frost.  If there is a severe frost and the cactus starts to freeze, the "joints" of the arms are impacted first and cannot sustain their structure and thus droop.  While they may survive and the ends of the arms may start growing upward, the initial droop remains.  Obviously, if the frost is severe enough, the entire cactus may die.

Moving saguaros

Due to challenges in reproduction and the growing black market for saguaros, legal protections have been put in place at the federal level as well as in Arizona that govern the harvesting, collecting or destruction of them.  For example, a developer in Scottsdale can't just bulldoze saguaros, but generally has to replant or give them away.  Companies can obtain tax deductions for donating them to organizations like the Desert Botanical Gardens, for example.

Moving them is not easy, though.  First of all, how do you approach something that has large spikes all around it?  How do you transport something that weighs tons?  How do you ensure that it will survive when you're only taking a fraction of its root structure that has taken, oh, say, 100 years to build?

Not surprisingly, a cottage industry has emerged to address the need.  While I didn't get to see the preparation, it seems that they dug out a root ball that is large enough to capture the taproot.  They wrap carpets around certain spiny parts where they need to access or secure the cactus, including creating wooden structures to support the arms during transit and to create space among the arms during transport so they're not crushed.  The cactus is then attached with industrial-size ratcheting tie-downs to a specially-designed boom truck.

At the relocation site, the process is reversed as you can see in the photos below.  What's important to note is that the cactus must be situated in the precise direction relative to the sun as it was in its original location.  It also needs to be supported by braces for a while until it begins to rebuild its root structure.  Because it doesn't have a root structure sufficient to support such a large plant, professional attention is required to determined the best way to keep the cactus hydrated and to develop the root system.

I've named this replanted saguaro Sonny and can't wait to visit her the next time I'm back at the DBG.

Sonny on the truck, being moved into position and raised, protective structures removed and, finally, in place

An ugly blog

Is it narcissistic to love your own blog?  I don't necessarily mean love reading it, but that you love creating it.  Because I kinda love the Preuscher blog.  And every time I think of it these days, I get a smile on my face because it brings so many good memories of my time in Europe when I was contributing to it on a periodic, if not exactly regular, basis.  There were so many different experiences that I had there that I felt compelled to share them. 


But after that smile, I get a bit of a sad feeling because I haven't blogged for so long and, well, feel like I don't have anything of interest to offer.  That my life is dull, particularly as I am in a new role at work that involves basically zero travel, let alone travel to interesting international destinations.


But when I think back, it's not necessarily the travel element that is interesting (or at least appeared to be of interest based on feedback from readers who followed me then), but that the experiences involved a lot of learning.  And whether I am traveling or not, learning is one of my favorite things in the entire world.


So I'm going to try to pick up the blog again, but with a focus on the random bits of learning I will be pursuing.  And I think just knowing that I now have a blog focused on that will help me recognize when I am having a learning moment (which isn't quite as lofty a pursuit as finding "teachable moments").


I think one of the next blogs will be about hummingbirds, as I'm watching them right now outside my window in Arizona.  But first I have to experience a learning moment with the digital camera because my iPhone does a really poor job of capturing these little birds.  And I don't think anyone wants to read a blog without a picture.  You know -- an ugly blog like this one.  ;-)