The summer of 2011 saw the largest and most destructive wildfire in the written history of Southeastern Arizona’s Chiricahua Mountains.  From May 8 through June 26 the Horseshoe Two Fire snaked its way the length of the Chiricahuas, ultimately enveloping 223,000 acres, approximately 80 percent of the mountains.  As with almost any wildfire, some areas were unaccountably left untouched, in other areas the fire stayed on the ground, and in some areas flames engulfed everything, leaving behind a monochromatic landscape like a negative for an old black-and-white photograph.

 As many of you know, Lynne and I own a home—40 years this August—in Whitetail Canyon.  Looking south (photo above), all our view is missing is an upright bear in overalls with a round-brimmed hat, leaning on a shovel. The fire was that intense.
    Thankfully, our private structures escaped destruction (photo below).  Fire burnt a small portion of the root cellar roof, and otherwise left the buildings unscathed.  Heat turned about half of the leaves of the grand old sycamores that shade our roof to flame-colored orange.  It looked like early autumn around the house for almost two weeks, but now those leaves have fallen and been replaced by new green foliage.
    The majority of the riparian zone along Whitetail Creek also survived the fire. Big junipers were the notable exceptions. Hollow juniper trunks sucked fire like chimneys. The majority of the sycamore trees, however, were left unburnt, and sycamore is the most important component of a healthy mountain riparian community in Southeastern Arizona.
    In Whitetail Canyon numbers of hummingbirds have actually increased.  Those residents that remained have been compressed into the green ribbon of intact riparian vegetation. The first southward-bound Rufous arrived on June 26. It opened the flood gates. As I write this in mid-July, we have a phenomenal 12 species of hummingbirds using our sugar-water feeders in Whitetail Canyon. Never has diversity been greater.
    Numbers are also above average for July.   Hundreds of hummingbirds are consuming over 2 gallons of nectar every day.  Some feeders have all six feeder ports occupied simultaneously.
    Hummingbird diversity is reflected in the overall bird community.  This year’s 34th annual Chiricahua Elegant Trogon Census took place on the last “official” day of the fire, June 26.  After compiling the results I was astonished when I realized a record 82 associative species were reported in Cave Creek Canyon between elevations from 5,000 to 6,000 feet.  Hairy Woodpeckers and Red-breasted Nuthatches were probably driven down into Cave Creek by the fire above, but species diversity was simply high across the board.
    Better yet, below an elevation of 6,000 feet, fire scars are basically invisible in Cave Creek Canyon and South Fork.  There’s no sign of the Horseshoe Two burn in either Portal or at the Southwestern Research Station.  It is easy to forget that a monster fire rolled through only a few weeks earlier.
    Reflecting the hummingbird trend has been the early arrival and sheer numbers of Painted Buntings this summer.  Prior to this year, there was only one June record of Painted Bunting in the Chiricahua region; typically these birds do not appear until after mid-July.  In 2011 Painted Buntings patronized a handful of private residence feeders in June, and at one home in Portal no fewer than a dozen were present by the middle of July.
    Rare and out-of-place birds have been the rule across all of Southeastern Arizona this summer.  Among the sweetest, a record four Yellow Grosbeaks have shown up at area feeding stations.  Other rarities span the spectrum from Purple Gallinule to Streak-backed Oriole.  In a single week a Mourning Warbler from the Eastern U.S. shared top billing with a Fan-tailed Warbler from Mexico. Both are far from annual in Arizona.
    I had no desire to have a wave of flames engulf the Chiricahua Mountains this summer.  I certainly feel grateful that Lynne’s and my home was spared in Whitetail Canyon.  But—and perhaps oddly—I am extremely proud of the resilience that all things wild have exhibited in the face of the cataclysm that rocked our corner of the world in 2011.  They inspire confidence in the future.