More river trip photos from September - probably the last for this year

We always take sleeping photos...used to be sleeping babies...

Now it's sleeping heroes. How did this guy get here?

The Alamo set for John Wayne's Alamo movie is located in Brackettville, TX. DH and I went there a few years ago and took photos all round the place, including with a cardboard "Duke." We had heard they have closed the place to visitors now. Then we found JW in a junk store nearby. He may or may not have been the one we saw a few years ago, but it makes a good story. We figure he was tired and decided to take a snooze.

Doe grazing on the way to the low water crossing.

This doe was almost always in the same spot. Then we noticed there was another with her.

We began to call these does DH's girls.

Wild turkeys

 

Old turkey watching the wild ones

Grim lineup of turkey vultures.

 When we were driving around looking at game, we saw a rancher stop and "pick up" his dog. Then they drove down a road, the dog jumped out of the pickup and they headed down the road. We never did figure out what they were doing. Perhaps it was some kind of game. Perhaps it is a way the dog gets his exercise. 

We saw this pickup driving slowly down the road.

We began to think this is the way this pup is exercised.

Ducks coming to finish up the leftover bread.

We came back from one of our trips around the area, probably trying to see game. As  we drove up and got out of the car, a squirrel was running around on this large oak. Suddenly he disappeared into a hold in the tree trunk. I had not noticed the hole before. As I stared at the hole, I thought the squirrel stuck his head up. After enlarging the photo I saw that he was, indeed looking at us from his hiding place.
 

Tree near our cabin. Squirrel was climbing as we drove up and disappeared into a hole.

 

You can just see the squirrel looking out of the hole.

There he is.

 I have taken thousands of pictures of this river. I suspect I will take thousands more before I am done. There is always something new to see.

View across the river and slightly upstream.

View across the river

These rocks are usually well-submerged.

View down river from the cliff trail

Steps and ladder where a tree and swing used to stand.

View upriver without the steps and ladder

View of the river.

Cypress knees...nothing quite like them.

Abandoned campsite - folks left the light on and made for a perfect photo.

Full moon

Full moon over the pond

Breakfast with old men

I breakfasted a few weeks ago with DH at one of the local Mexican restaurant.

We don't usually eat breakfast there, but after our walk with the puppies it somehow seemed a good idea.

Have you ever stopped into a restaurant and seen a "morning coffee group"? These are groups of 4 or more old men/retirees who sit around and talk over breakfast or coffee. I don't think they are simply a function of the south. I suspect they exist anywhere there is a comfortable place with decent coffee and enough retired fellows to make a group, or two, or three.

[I know there is another group at the local Whataburger as YC visited them when she was working on her senior thesis. She interviewed some of the guys for her stories about the cities flooded when the local dam was built. They had some cool stories to tell. But I digress.]

There are at least two groups at the local Mexican restaurant. One group includes a pair of twins. I may have written about them before - perhaps in this place or in a Sunday school letter years ago. I had not realized the twins existed before observing them in the coffee group - and even then it was only because one of them explained it. I only later saw them together.

It seems that one brother attends the Baptist Church and the other attends the Methodist Church. Having raised my kids Methodist, we knew that brother. And spying a man we thought was him at the restaurant one day, MC and I greeted him and spoke for a moment. He smiled and gently told us, "I believe you have me confused with my brother. We are identical twins, you know." [He must have wondered who in the heck we were, speaking so familiarly.]

The Methodist brother has been sick in recent years, but today he was present with the group. I tried not to be too obvious as I watched the group's interaction. I was too far away to hear much of the conversation. I could not help but notice as the one healthy brother guided his twin away from the table, out the door, and to the truck when their breakfast and joke/story/lie telling was through.

I thought about my siblings. I thought about my children. We are blessed as those brothers are blessed.

I read a story in the Guardian recently - about having children as a gift to them. My parents did give me quite the gift and I do hope my children feel the same.

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2013/aug/10/children-more-merrier-siblings-gift

Turtles and damselflies - more views of the river

We always walk down the cliff trail at least once. As we climbed down to the cliff one morning, we surprised a group of three dark - almost black - squirrels. At first I thought I was seeing things. Then I decided it was just the shadows on the top of the cliff causing regular grey squirrels to look darker. My later research disclosed they were rock squirrels * (whew!).

We walked along the upper trail, climbed down to the lower trail and walked upstream towards the main camping and swimming area. The river is deep in spots along the part of the river near the cliff. On the far bank we spotted a turtle sunning himself on a fallen tree.

 

Later in the day we walked from the normal swimming/camping area to see if the deeper water would allow for a bit of swimming. All too much of the river was just a trickle through the rocks. I cannot say I have ever seen the water this low. The drought has taken a toll on our river.

As we waded into the water we saw plants growing in strange spots.

This little sprig of grass surprised me.

I wonder if this is the switchgrass ** my friend JK has been studying.

Something else entirely.

And we were all surprised to see the turtle was still sunning on the log. DH and the girls headed to the deeper water and I started to wade near the turtle. "Don't scare him into the water. We don't need to worry about turtle bites," warned DH. I laughed and headed closer.

Yes, he is still there on this sunny day.

I didn't get this close...DH asked me not to (hahaha).

This too is taken with the zoom. He is a beauty, but I didn't need to get too close.

Then I saw another, smaller, turtle on a different post.

This turtle was about half the size of the larger one.

And he was much more skittish...jumped off the post and started swimming towards me.

As the turtle disappeared under the waterlilies, I started backing away.

And, of course, I got too close and scared the smaller turtle into the water. And he started swimming my way. [OK, OK. So DH was right. Don't tell him.] I stood my ground, trying to get a photo of him in the water before he turned to hide under the waterlilies.

After a few more photos of the cliff and bank and the damselflies resting on YC before swimming a bit.
 

Dead cypress along the river.

Cliff and a bit of the view downriver.

 

Damselfly on brim of YC's hat

Friendly damselflies on YC's shoulder. Maybe it was the pink color, but they only perched on YC.

We abandoned the swimming hole all too soon - forced out by a bunch of inconsiderate tubers with a boom box.

* www.nsrl.ttu.edu/tmot1/spervari.htm
**http://openwetware.org/wiki/Texas_Switchgrass_Collaborative

War Memorial - On Civilization's Height Immutable They Stand

Can you handle one more walk this weekend?

According to family history, my great grandfather Adolph left Germany to avoid being drafted into the army. But years after he settled in Texas, he answered the call to service and put on the grey uniform of the Confederacy.

The local United Daughters of the Confederacy commissioned this statue which was dedicated in 1912. Family history also holds that the community ran out of funds to pay for the memorial and great grandpa donated the remaining balance.

Created by  Pompeo Coppini,* the Confederate War Memorial in Victoria, Texas is an amazing work of art. I made a point of seeing it today. We walked the block between some of what had been my great grandfather's property and the park where the statue has stood for some 101 years.

And here it is:

Don't ask me. What good memorial would photograph without spooky things in the frame. (Same camera - within moments of the other photos.)

And here.

* en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pompeo_Coppini

Homeward bound...

We were listening to the radio as we drove towards my grandmother's house. As we turned right on North Street, Simon and Garfunkel began to sing, "Homeward Bound." I laughed and mentioned it to DH as we crossed the railroad tracks and I directed him to take the next left - onto Liberty St.

"Park anywhere. We are here."

So, kind soul that he is, he parked and I took him on my 10-year-old's tour of the neighborhood. My grandmother died when I was 10 or 11 (I lost both of my remaining grandparents - the only ones I had known - within a one year of each other. I would be forever jealous of friends with grandparents.).  My siblings and I knew almost every inch of my grandmother's yard and most of the block. We knew each crack in the sidewalk.

But we weren't allowed to cross the street (although sometimes we did - very carefully - when no one was looking).

We were allowed to walk around the block to where the sidewalk ends. I suppose that is one reason I love that Silverstein book. My freedom at Grandma's was restricted by curbs and sidewalks. And I knew (and know) where the sidewalk ends. It ends at the house where I would, in my 10-year-old dreams, one day live.

I will say that my child's mind never really understood how Grandma's modest home and Mrs. Lamkin's Hobbit-hole next door were located in the same block as the porch-wrapped mansion where I would one day reside.

DH and I took short walk around the block. It is really just two sides of the block. There is a sidewalk on Liberty and one on Stayton, but then you have to turn around and go back because crossing the street is forbidden. [I seem to remember my cousin used to challenge us to go a little farther down Liberty. She would dare us to cross the street. She was a risk taker, a wild one.].

So, here it is:

Grandma's house. The wooden railing is different. It was concrete/stucco when I was a child. We would step on the water faucet and climb up the side of the porch. We would jump from the top of the railings across the sidewalk at the side of the house and into the soft grass. I was usually terrified, but I followed my daredevil sister into all kinds of mischief (That's my story.). OK. And we would sneak the key and look around in the garage and storerooms and play under the fig trees and pick up pecans in the back side yard. All are gone save the pecan tree.

There are Halloween decorations! Does a child live here?

Love these pumpkins!

Mother would love these ferns - five giant fern plants decorated the porch. And two comfortable rockers kept the pumpkins company.

Warehouse at the train tracks. It looks just the same.

We were not allowed to go here. I am not sure how we found those railroad spikes anywhere else. Don't tell. (And somehow I think this is where I learned to mash pennies on the tracks). When the warning lights and bells went off, we would rush to the backyard and pull up on the wooden fence so we could see the lights and watch the train go by.

Mrs. Lamkin lived here, next door to Grandma. In my mind, this is what a Hobbit house looks like.

The sidewalk in front of Grandma's is new. I told DH so. But as we continued on - down the street - I recognized these old blocks of concrete. I walked these 40 years ago.

DH surveys my house. This is where the sidewalk ends - at the far side of the front of this mansion.

When I was little, the woman who lived here was wheelchair-bound. Sometimes we would see her sitting on the porch. Sometimes she would see us and waive. I have always loved houses with porches all around. This house has stayed with me all my life. [But now I know - maintenance nightmare.] This house has been renovated over and over. There was scaffolding on the side today. And I bless those trying to preserve it. We heard a train whistle and whistle as we walked along Stayton.

As we returned from our walk, I noticed someone working in the back yard of my grandmother's house. I began walking up to the gate (as DH objected, ever the introvert) and called out to the man I could see moving lumber.

He is the new owner. He and his wife and their daughter live there. He was busy working on a tree house! We talked a bit about how the house and yard "used to be." I told him of our feats of daring-do. I thanked him and wished him the best. And we left.

A little girl lives there again and she is getting a tree house. Wouldn't Grandma and Mother be pleased?