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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

05 July 2008 - 23:59

hunting endangered species

"I'd never seen sand dunes turn green before I came here."

This from the mechanic I found working on a road grader in the middle of the dunes. A conversation that delayed my breeding bird survey route by fifteen minutes. He'd lived in this country for four years, and was commenting on the sand dunes behind me.

And yeah, they were green. Maybe more so than usual, with all the winter snows. I told him it was because of the Indian ricegrass.

Which is true, most years. The green shine that the dunes get all across their face. But what he was looking at, I was wrong. It's not ricegrass. It's something else.

I got a good look at the plant later in the morning, after my route was done.

When I was out hunting an endangered species.

Kinda hard to do when there's only a few thousand of the plants in existence in the state, in only six or eight isolated spots. And, because it's endangered, nobody publishes maps of where these rare plants are. Or if they do, the maps just go down to 'county'.

Not much help here, where our county is larger than three of the 50 states.

But I had an idea what type of habitat these plants need, and knew this is the time of year they bloom, so I took a hike. In the dunes.

Didn't find them, of course. Otherwise this entry'd be leading off with a picture of their pretty lavender blossoms.

But I found plenty of that sand-loving weed up above, its underground runners exposed by the wind.

And it was in those weed-covered dunes that I found this gal. Sitting in the doorway of the burrow she'd dug.

Now Sis, I'm not sure exactly how this toad would compare with a 50-cent piece, but she filled my hand:

And I say "she" just because it was so large, not because I lifted her skirt. And of course I picked her up. All the time I was handling and photographing this sweet toad, I was really careful not to squeeze too hard, or move too quickly.

'Cause if you scare a toad, well...

It pees on you.

Not that I mind a little toad pee. Been peed on plenty, by lots of things, thanks. But here in the desert, on an active sand dune, I'm sure that poor toad didn't have any moisture to spare.

No need making her waste good water just to scare me off.

Once I'd photographed her from every angle I could think of (I forgot her belly... she had a pretty belly.),

I set her down back at her burrow.

And she hopped away. Not a good thing, when it's right about noon, and hot and dry as could be.

So I caught her, and set her in front of her cool, damp hole again. And she hopped away.

And again. And again.

Finally, I just shoved her head right into the hole.

And she peed on me.

Damn.

Stayed in the hole, though.

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