Category Archives: Animals

Mammals, reptiles, birds, amphibians. Just about everything except insects.

Ghosts of the Past: Marine Fish on Mimbres Pottery

Porpoise on Mimbres Bowl from the  Deming Luna Mimbres Museum, New Mexico

In the far southwestern corner of New Mexico is a treasure. The Deming Luna Mimbres Museum, housed in the 1916 Armory Building, has collections that include a lot of just about everything. Who knew someone collected buttonhooks and that they could be so interesting? This is the thing about the museum: it’s easy to get distracted.

I visited on a windy, cold, spring day last week with pretty much one goal in mind. I’d heard about their collection of Mimbres artifacts and, as an archeologist, I just couldn’t resist an exhibit like that. I got a bit lost in the doll collection (there wasn’t a way out), wandered past cabinets of porcelain and fine china, meandered down a narrow hall, and then took a left into a room of wonders. Glass cases held ceramic bowls, pots, and bean jars of all shapes and sizes, trays of tiny beads, arrowpoints, bone tools, and fragile cord used for snare traps. I made the rounds, once, twice, and then just stood there, listening to the stories whispered by the pots.

The Mimbres Room, Deming Luna Mimbres Museum, New Mexico

The Mimbres people lived in the Mimbres River valley of southwestern New Mexico. For about 200 years (between AD 950 and 1150) they produced distinctive black-on-white pottery that told the story of their lives—men setting snares and carrying rabbit sticks, women giving birth, and people swimming with a school of fish. Many of the bowls have a single animal carefully painted on the bottom: a frog, bird, pronghorn antelope, or fish.

At first, you think that the animals are simply abstractions, the essence of the animal. But when you look closer, you begin to notice details and you eventually realize that the little fat bird with the tear-drop shaped circle around its eye must be a Montezuma Quail. Which is interesting, because Montezuma Quail don’t occur in that region today. But neither do the fish.

Quail BowlMontezuma Quail

Stephen Jett, a geographer from the University of California, Davis and his colleague Peter Moyle, a fisheries biologist, got interested in the fish represented on Mimbres pots and wrote a paper titled “The Exotic Origins of Fishes Depicted on Prehistoric Mimbres Pottery from New Mexico” (American Antiquities 51(4), 1986, pp 688-720).

About 11% of the animals shown on Mimbres pots are fishes and, as early as the 1950s, researchers noted in passing that many of the fish weren’t what you’d find in the Mimbres River. In fact, they kind of look like something you’d see in the ocean. But as any geographer will tell you, southwestern New Mexico is a long way from the ocean. A very long way away.

Jett funneled every fish image that he could find to Moyle and asked a simple question: What do you think this is? Surprisingly, Jett and Moyle discovered that they could identify many of the fish and that the majority of the fish species painted on Mimbres pots were marine in origin. Jacks, giant jewfish, snappers, grunts, and the distinctive long-nosed butterfly fish were carefully painted by the Mimbres. The Pacific razorfish—with its distinctive “unicorn” fin—is clearly depicted along with tiny blennies, and giant parrotfish.


Of course, the million dollar question is “How in the world did the Mimbres people know what long-nosed butterfly fish and Pacific razorfish looked like?” But before we answer that question, there’s more you should know.

The Mimbres were apparently fascinated by the ocean. Dozens of clam shell bracelets and hundreds of tiny shell beads fill the trays and cases of the Mimbres rooms at the Deming Luna Mimbres Museum. Thousands of shell items—from at least 11 genera of seashells—have been recovered from Mimbres archeological sites in the region.

Ancient seashells found in a Mimbres site in southern New Mexico.

Conventional wisdom is that all of the shell jewelry originally came from the Hohokam, a contemporary cultural group that lived in south-central Arizona and were believed to control the shell trade. They obtained their raw materials from the Gulf of California and the Pacific coast, ground the shell down to create bracelets, tinklers, pendants, and beads, and then traded them to the Anasazi to the north and the Mimbres to the east.

But Jett and Moyle weren’t quite so quick to accept conventional wisdom. The fish on the pots, they say, indicate that the Mimbreños were very familiar with the ocean and were most likely active participants in shell collecting and transportation. By looking at the species of fish and the types of shell, they concluded that the Mimbres people were making trips to the Gulf of California and specifically, the area around Guaymas, Mexico. Near Guaymas both the reefs necessary for the fish species depicted on the pots and the sandy beaches where the shells could be collected are found.

To the modern human, the thought of walking 1000 miles or so to the coast and back is a bit daunting. But to the Mimbreños? Probably not so much. A trip of that distance would only take a couple of months by foot and there were undoubtedly villages (and trade opportunities) along the way. The marine archeologist in me also has to wonder if they used canoes or some type of water transportation to speed up the journey (although I couldn’t find any images of boats on the pottery I saw).

Because there’s little evidence that the Mimbres people either traded their pottery or imported pottery from other places, they must have painted their fish pots when they returned home. Did they sketch the different types of fish on pieces of bark and take them back to show the potters? Or did they memorize details to paint later?

The pots in the museum whisper to me, but they keep some secrets to themselves.

Deming Luna Mimbres Museum | 301 S. Silver Ave., Deming, New Mexico | 575.546.2382 |


Jett, S.C. & P.B. Moyle. 1986. The exotic origins of fishes depicted on prehistoric Mimbres pottery from New Mexico. American Antiquities 51(4):688-720.

Parks-Barrett, M.S. 2001. Prehistoric Jewelry of the NAN Ranch Ruin (LA15049), Grant County, New Mexico. Master’s thesis, Department of Anthropology, Texas A&M University.

Images from the collections of the Deming Luna Mimbres Museum.

Also posted in Archeology, Chihuahuan Desert, Fish, New Mexico Tagged , , , |

Ghosts of the Past: Mexican Grey Wolf

Mexican Grey Wolf in the El Paso Zoo, Texas.


I believe in ghosts. They hide in plain sight, urging us to listen to the stories they have to tell.

Ash, a Mexican Grey Wolf paces in her enclosure at the El Paso Zoo. She circles through the shrubs, down a slope and back around the rock-lined pond. She pauses for a few seconds to stare at me and then continues her pacing. Ash may not know it, but she’s one of the last of her kind.

Mexican grey wolves such as Ash and her companion, Ivy, were once common throughout the mountain woodlands of central Mexico,  Arizona, southern New Mexico, and southwestern Texas. Vernon Bailey, in his Biological Survey of Texas (1905) describes the grey wolf as “still common over most of the plains and mountain country of western Texas.” But even in the early 1900s, grey wolves were being hunted by ranchers and professional wolf hunters. Bounties were high and wolf hunting was a profitable business. “There is a strong temptation,” says Bailey, “for the hunters to save the breeding females and dig out the young each year for the bounty, thus making their business not only profitable but permanent.”

Not quite permanent, though. In 1972, Dr. James Scudday published a brief report in the Journal of Mammalogy about two young wolves that were trapped in Brewster County in December, 1970. These were the last grey wolves seen in west Texas and pretty much the last seen in the southwest north of the border.

The Mexican grey wolf was put on the endangered species list in 1976 and captive-bred wolves—descendants of breeding stock captured in Mexico—were used to reintroduce the species to the wild in the Blue Range Wolf Recovery Area of New Mexico in 1998. The recovery program has proceeded in fits and starts. Reintroduction of a predator such as the grey wolf has not been enthusiastically embraced by rural and ranching communities, making it an often contentious political, rather than ecological, issue.

Jason Mark, takes a look at both sides of the issue in his fascinating essay Can Wolves Bring Back Wilderness (Scientific American, Oct. 9, 2015).

“Can we find a way to live with the wolf’s wildness and share space together?” questions Mark. “Can we coexist, and come to see another carnivore as something of an equal, and not just an enemy? Or do we have to control it, and in that control limit its wildness, the very thing that draws us to it?”

Will the Mexican grey wolf always be shimmering and barely visible–a ghost from our ecological past?



Also posted in Chihuahuan Desert, Texas Tagged , , , |

White on White

Sunset at White Sands National Monument

Imagine this.

You’re standing in the Tularosa Basin of New Mexico during the last ice age—let’s say about 30,000 years ago. A huge lake shimmers in the background. Herds of mammoth and camels squelch through the mud leaving long lines of tracks. Packs of saber-toothed cats and dire wolves follow, waiting for the opportunity to hunt.

The lake is not unusual for this time period, nor this geologic setting. The Tularosa Basin is completely enclosed, bound by mountains to the east, west, and south; and Chupadera Mesa to the north. Water that drains into the basin has nowhere to go, so—depending on the climate—it either accumulates or it evaporates.

During the last ice age, water accumulated. Temperatures were cooler, evaporation wasn’t as rapid, and there was simply more water. At least eight lakes dotted the basins of the northern Chihuahuan Desert in Arizona, Texas, and New Mexico.

But the giant lake of the Tularosa Basin (now known as Lake Otero) is different. Although the water sparkles and shimmers, it’s not “pure.” The mountains surrounding the basin are partially composed of gypsum deposits hundreds of feet thick. As rain or snowmelt flows across the surface, the water slowly but surely dissolves the minerals of the rocks, and carries them away in solution to eventually accumulate in the lake.

Now, jump forward about 20,000 years. The climate is changing. Temperatures are rising and there is less precipitation. The mammoths and camels no longer roam the lake shores. The dire wolves and saber tooth cats have disappeared. The lake is drying up.

As the free water evaporates, millions of tons of dissolved minerals become concentrated in less and less water. Knife-like crystals of selenite begin to grow in the supersaturated muds of the lake bed. Eventually, the water of the lake is gone and the crystals lie exposed. Battered by the wind, cracked during freeze/thaw cycles, broken as animals walk across them, tiny chips and flakes of gypsum from the crystals are ground down into pure white, sand.

The wind picks up the sand grains and bounces them across the landscape. They begin to accumulate around rocks, bushes, and anything stable enough to stop their movement. Sand dunes begin to form.

Take another giant step through time. Pay your admission and enter White Sands National Monument, an amazing system of gypsum sand dunes. These gypsum dunes are quite rare. They require a set of specific conditions to form: a source of gypsum, arid conditions (so the gypsum won’t just dissolve away), and the wind to pile everything up. The three largest gypsum dune systems in the world are in the Chihuahuan Desert (White Sands, Guadalupe Mountains National Park, and Cuatro Cienegas, Mexico).

Although the dunes seem barren, they’re actually teaming with life. But you need to be on your toes (or more likely, your knees) to see much. Many of the animals spend their days dug into cool burrows in the sand or tucked into the shade of a bush.

But the main reason that you may not see anything is because the animals have changed color to blend with their environment. Instead of the normal browns and tans of the desert, the animals of white sands are bleached blondes.

This color adaptation is exciting to researchers. After all, the dunes are only about 7,000 years old, so to find white versions of common animals shows speciation moving along at a fairly rapid clip.

The Bleached Earless Lizard (Holbrookia maculata ruthveni) shows the greatest adaptation to its environment of all the lizards at White Sands. On the dark, volcanic rock surrounding White Sands National Monument, the earless lizard is a dark brown. The populations at White Sands are nearly pure white.

Bleached Earless Lizard

A Bleached Earless Lizard blends into the white sand.

This adaptation was probably originally a matter of natural selection. A dark animal on white sand is an easy target for a predator. Since the Bleached Earless Lizard is active during the day and prefers open habitats, the darker lizards would have been removed from the environment, leaving lighter and lighter animals to breed.

Today, predators are probably still picking off darker lizards, but the lizards themselves have changed their way of looking for a suitable mate. Field and experimental studies have shown that White Sands males will display preferentially to the lighter White Sands females when given a choice, thus continuing the selection for lighter animals. Although the Bleached Earless Lizard is considered a subspecies of the general population of Holbrookia maculata, these behavioral changes may indicate that a new species is in the making.

Bleached Earless Lizard

Bleached Earless Lizard (Holbrookia maculata ruthveni)

While other reptiles and animals such as pocket mice and crickets all show adaptation to the white sand, perhaps the most astounding group (evolutionarily speaking) are the moths.

Not much was known about the moths of gypsum dunes until 2006 when lepidopterist Eric Metzler was invited to conduct a long-term study at White Sands National Monument. He established a three km-long transect that cut across the four habitat types within the dune field: open dunes with no vegetation, interdunal spaces, the edge of the dunes, and open habitat outside the dune field.

Using light traps, Metzler and his colleagues collected moths at 11 sample sites along the transect. What they found was astounding. Among the thousands of moths collected were 24 undescribed species in 7 families. As you would expect, many of the new moth species are white or very pale in color.

As Metzler’s study shows, there is still much to be learned in the gypsum dune fields of the Chihuahuan Desert. So the next time you visit White Sands National Monument or venture out into the gypsum dunes at Guadalupe Mountains National Park, take a moment to wander. Watch for movement and holes in the ground. Imagine the life under your feet and admire the resourcefulness of the plants and animals that live here. Perhaps you, too, will discover a new species.

Also posted in Chihuahuan Desert, Geology, Insects, Landscapes Tagged , , |