Sunrise in the Afternoon

Mary and Becky were going to hike through some concrete forests, so I decided to try a different path.  The McDowell Mountains were calling.  It was pushing 70 F down in the valley, but had been much cooler in the morning, so I was not terribly concerned about scorpions or snakes.

Mary and I discussed attire prior to my departure.  I opted to wear my fleece, though it was unlikely I'd need it.

What a pleasant thought.  "I am here!"
It is good to be anywhere.
Sunrise Peak is at the red dot on the mountain around to the right.

What can this mean?
Is it the grim and persistent harbinger of some evil?
An omen of things to come?

Not the most pastoral and inviting trail,
but the hills beyond exert their pull.

Since I'm having difficulty identifying this bird,
I must have discovered a new species.  Well, new to me, anyway.
I think I'll call it the Yellow throated warbling Arizona finch.

Go past the cactus and turn right.
See the people on the trail?

That's Sunrise Peak up ahead.

Meanwhile, back in the Valley of the Sun,
the infestation of humans goes about its business.

I did not pluck and eat these prickly pears.
I have to believe that near-starvation led to the discovery these are edible,
and supposedly tasty.

These cacti keep the hive of humans largely at bay.

Clearly the gateway to the uplands.

Extremely happy to have a trail, rocky though it may be.

A little elevation lets one see a long way.

Camelback rises before the haze.
Beyond is Phoenix.

Decisions, decisions.

Looking back down past the trail I just traversed toward Camelback and hazy Phoenix.

The trail is guarded by sentinels.

It was quite windy, and significantly colder than the quiet valley had suggested.  

This was one time when it was good to be fleeced.

Mental health is an issue in the Phoenix area.
This crazy man ran past me on the trail.

You always know you're in for a bit of a climb
when the trail marker points vertically.

Looking back onto the McDowell Range from my perch on Sunrise Peak.
I followed the trail to the left to get here.
I wonder where the one to the right goes.

Selfie!
I am sitting perfectly straight up and down.
The horizon moved when the camera captured this shot.

I sat in the lee of the rocky peak, out of the wind and in the warm sun.  It made great sense to relax for awhile and consider the beauty below and beyond.  I think being very tired from the hike made me want to consider the beauty in great detail.  Can't do that too quickly.  Don't want to miss anything.

Looking down onto the lower reaches and Scottsdale on the valley floor.

Looking down from the peak, I saw that I was not the only one enjoying the sun.

A hummingbird popped into view, and disappeared just as quickly
since I could only see him when he flew high enough
to appear against the background of houses.
He did this several times.  See him?

As I sat watching the hummingbird, I head a thunk beside me.
I turned to see this guy.
"Should I just sit and just appreciate him, or turn the camera to capture his image?"
He would have split quickly even without the noise of the mirror.
I now have something in common with Wile E. Coyote.

This guy was also watching the hummingbird.

How far do you think those nearest abodes in the valley below would set you back?
I wouldn't bother asking.

The westerly promontory on Sunrise Peak is a few feet higher and closer to the trail.
When I arrived, two people were there, immersed in the printed word.
I moved to the east in respect for their solitude.
Several other groups came up, looked and left the western bump,
but I sat uninterrupted with my animal friends.

Un-retouched brilliant lichens.
Or perhaps it's a petroglyph.
The boy holds mom's hand on the left and a balloon on the right.

Do rocks get ringworm?

A fellow hiker.

It's great to be able to look back and see the peak just descended.
Hard to do that in the east because the trees get in the way.

Grass in the desert!
There must be a bit of a spring flowing underneath.

Almost back on the flat.
Be careful that the mountain bikers don't run you over.

If you see a blue bag, don't touch it.
Unless, of course, you happen to own the dog responsible.

Happy to have gone up, happy to come back down.