What are these?

First I saw this one, almost like the large acorn of the burr oak

Then I saw that there were number of them amidst the small acorns still growing

The are large and all have opened, as if to let out little creatures...

I glanced at the treeline as we walked to the far meadow and thought I saw a burr oak.

On closer inspection I discovered it is not a burr oak at all. It looks more like a red oak. But it has galls or perhaps nests of some kind.

Anyone know what these are?

Two fishermen (for Rob and Jim)

Sunflower greets the Sunday morning

We were not early, but with the humidity low the air felt almost cool. There was a briskness to our walk as we headed east.

At the top of the last hill we noted two of the fishermen were heading our direction down the side street. And we glanced back at them as they made their way down the street, across the field, through the ditch, past the playing fields and on to the river.

Two fishermen

Two boys lumber down the street
and across the dew-wet grass
in the brightness of the morning
juggling bucket and tackle and pole
to fish the Leon.


We walked the dirt road to stretch our legs, knowing it was too late for deer.

Half-way down the road I saw a hummingbird hovering over the cedars.

The dried grass is flattening out, through the weight of animals passing over or the beating of recent rains.

I showed DH the "tomato" fruit of the silver-leaf nightshade. He, not fond of vegetables, is also not surprised to find the tomato has poisonous cousins. [I neglect to tell him the potato is also a relative.]

The only new "tracks" noticed today were the castings of earthworms in the cracking earth. Everything seems to be calling for rain and the rain is promised for this afternoon.

We hugged the shade as much as we could on our way back up the street.

Earthworm castings

Sunday morning count:

6 cars
1 motorcycle
2 helicopters (go figure)
5 dogs barking (4 near, 1 far)
3 cats outside (one tuxedo, 2 tortoiseshell)
2 cats in the window (Mohawk dog's house)
2 fishermen

In the park:

one car
three crows
one hummingbird

[For any concerned about the photo of the fishermen: I made sure to be at a distance where their identity could not be discerned, but we could catch their progress.]

Tracks and tomatoes (mostly photos)

The sun reminded us that we were starting too late
 - but we had played ball in the backyard
and a long walk wasn't necessary (so I drove to the park and we sought out shade,)

We walked the dirt road as there is shade along most of the way.

There's a hole on the edge of the road...

There's a hole on the edge of the road...
(wonder what is down there)

[Forgive the blurry photos, but I do what I can.]
Dragonflies were everywhere.
This one was stunning....he left no tracks.

Hobbit house. No Hobbit at home. And no tracks...

The fruit of the silver-leaf nightshade. This was a surprise as we don't always see the whole cycle of the plant.
These looked like tiny tomatoes. It makes sense as these plants are a distant cousin of the tomato.
In fact, the bloom of this wildflower is similar to the (much smaller) tomato flower bloom.

For more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Solanaceae 

More nightshade plants with fruit turning yellow...

One could see the "tracks" of the water down the dirt road...
signs of our recent rains.

Small hoof prints of a fawn (on left)...
smaller than the raccoon or possum or skunk across from them.

Skunk or raccoon or squirrel or possum...something small...

Dog tracks among the others. These prints are about the size of a 50 cent piece. This was a tiny dog.

A deer obviously slipped in the mud at the edge of the road a few days ago.

After our quick walk up and down the road the dogs were ready to grab a drink and jump in the car for a ride home...

Stand By Me (or is it Goonies?)

Friday night can only mean one thing -- ICE CREAM!

Somehow conning DH into driving us to the park, the walker geared up for a walk home. It is still too warm to do the entire two miles, but we thought we could "walk the ice cream off" with a stroll home from the stand in the park.

The ice cream experience is always a juggle. One person holds the leads and tries to keep the pets calm while the other stands in line to order. The teens who work the stand are nice, but slow...

Dogs get soft serve. Old people get sugar free pina colada and cherry snow cones.

It doesn't take long for the dogs to devour the ice cream, but I save some of my melting ice for the walk. [Good thing it was sugar free as I would spill it repeatedly juggling my responsibilities for the next mile.]

DH got the trash run. Paddy, Scruffy and I headed west towards home as darkness fell.

At the mouth of the park we noticed a cyclist and young walkers. These were not ball game attenders. These were fishermen.

We moved into the field to allow the six young men by. We thought they would walk faster than we. And, of course, we wanted to eavesdrop.

We wanted to watch this bunch of boys....sweaty, dirty, silly boys who made us feel like we were in a Spielberg or Reiner flick about the bonds of boyhood friendship.

For the length of the steep hill we watched and listened. They caught no fish today. They waived their farewells and called their "See ya later"s as two stopped at the house at the top of the the hill and the others walked on, down the dark side street, and into my imagination.

My thoughts were of the hot summers long ago - sweaty, dirty kids riding bikes, climbing hills, wading in rain-filled ditches, catching turtles, feeling for crawdads with our feet....

The crickets and cicadas sang us home.

Park cat

We Friday-off slackers waited to start the walk until it was just-light.

The pups, eager after a day with no walk, wandered and sniffed and irritated us no end. But we managed to make our way east as pink began to tinge the sky behind the two thunderheads in the distance. Rain is promised again for the next few days.

We talked of plans to mow and errand if we find energy and ambition today.

For now I encouraged a peaceful walk - to listen to the bird songs and watch-dog barking....

We were accosted by two of the Beal Park yip-dogs. DH growled at them and they retreated. [The growling confrontation happened as running man turned onto the street. One wonders what stories HE tells.]

The crows were already grouping in the wildness across from the park. Their call seems more a "haw, haw, haw" to me than a "caw."

Dewayne and Sissy were already working the yellow labs as we headed to the practice diamond. We wanted to let Paddy and Scruffy run. The diamond is no longer secure, however. The gates latches are damaged and an entire section of fencing is missing.

We decided to bluff them and see how they would do. DH stood at the missing fence to block escapees. I stood across the way so we could run the dogs back and forth.

After using up our patience and dog treats we walked to the water fountain as we had run though all the water we carried...these were thirsty dogs. Success! Everyone drank then turned to see the park cat casually watching us as she was lounged on a culvert - quick escape route if necessary.

She allowed me to grab her image and then disappeared below.

Robot dogs passed us as we left the park together - the labs hanging out of the truck window and ours straining to get closer to these creatures.

Ah, homeward we traveled to the laughter of the crows...

Park cat

Time to leave

Only a tail and a tale

Haw, haw, haw...

Friday morning count:

15 cars
2 barking dogs - small and annoying
1 motorcycle
1 motorized bicycle
running man
a handful of crows in the field

Sissy and Dewayne with two yellow labs in the park
1 park cat

One fox

The remains of this month's moon was bright above us. Two stars shone even brighter in the east, the broken clouds allowing only a glimpse of the sky.

We reached the park in good time. As we walked the park road  the dogs almost pranced - heads up, ears at alert. Even the walker could tell that something was close.

The fox left the darkness under the pecan trees and walked across the street in front of us. He glanced at us before moving through the grass to the woods' edge.

He stood looking at us. It was as if he was tempting us for those few moments; as if he wished to say, "Come. Follow me into the woods."

The dogs pulled on their leads. They breathed heavily as they strained to give chase. They reached his scent trail and were ready to track.

But we don't track into the woods...we don't follow in the dark, into the darker unknown...not today.




Our morning count:

20 cars
2 stars

1 bird began to sing two blocks from the park
2 delivery trucks (one the Redwing Boot mobile store! - one the milk truck)
3 fluttering dark grey moths

1 bird perched at the top of the neighbor's tree sang every tune in his repertoire as we reached home

A successful morning for the pack...

We walked in the dark.

We were early - very.

The dogs distractedly pulled each other back and forth.

They pulled the walker.

The just-half moon glowed overhead, occasionally covered by clouds.

We arrived in the park as the herd crossed the road before us. Five deer quickly disappeared into the woods, but one paced under the pecan trees. He had been surprised by two walkers and two dogs. We moved forward quickly to allow him time and space to cross behind us and join the herd.

We walked through the ball fields and watered two thirsty pups. They struggled to see who would drink first from the coffee cup, now watering dish. Paddy is a hog. Scruff never seems to drink enough.

The restroom was full of creatures - 6 and 8 legged creatures - some of amazing size.

We were almost at the end of the walking path when Scruffy noticed the park cat in the distance. [We were happy to know that she is still in the park. We had not seen her in months.]

Then, as we turned towards the street, we saw the fox skirting the woods. He walked the edge of the clearing and then disappeared into the brush.

Two crows passed overhead as we reached the top of the first hill. Their caws identified them, an unsettling sound in the early morning.

The newspapers, absent on our way to the park, had been thrown. They were awaiting readers as we walked up the street to begin the rest of our day...




The count:

15 cars
5 dogs (barking at a distance)
2 crows flew in to roost
No papers down
No people in the park
Two enormous June bugs and a cricket in the restroom sink

 6 deer crossed the park road
1 fox at the edge of the woods

Ode to the Bug, um, er...Insect...

Last summer's drought meant more than a lack of moisture. There were no bugs. Really, there were no bugs. So, no bugs, no bats. No insects, no birds...the insect eaters were hungry or migrated to find food.

Much of the color was gone from the spring and summer. Much of the music of the summer was absent.

This year's insect experiences have pointed out that we have to take the irritating with the lovely so
I have been taking stock as insects, bugs, and the other creepies have appeared the past few weeks...in our yard, in the house, along the walks...who did we miss last year and who do we wish we missed this year?

We missed:

dragonflies
butterflies
skeeter eaters (crane flies)
moths
lightning bugs
true bugs
pop beetles in small numbers
June bugs in small numbers
cicadas
grasshoppers hopping out of the grass and weeds and surprising the dogs


We did not miss:

skeeters
roaches
little midges
crickets (This was a hard one, but they are nasty even though their song means summer.)
pop beetles in numbers (esp. the one in the living room we heard night after night, but could not find)
June bugs in large numbers (makers of scary noises at my windows late at night)
grasshoppers eating everything they can find
those crazy things that fly up your nose
flies
gnats

Other creatures we did not miss:

pill bugs
snails


Other creatures present last year that are back in greater numbers:

spiders (just wish they didn't weave their webs across our paths)
earthworms



My friend, Steve (aka the central Texas dog-whisperer) is a photographer too. He took all but two of  these amazing photos of bugs and such. I begged and he let me share them with you...

[Actually, all the amazing photos are Steve's. The last two are mine. While they are just OK, I worked hard to get them and crop them so I am including them.]

 Bee and dandelion

Bee and gaillardia

Bee and spider wort

Butterfly and ?

Butterfly and "beggar's lice" (wild carrot)

Woolly worm (not sure what caterpillar this is)

Butterfly on grass

Same type of butterfly as with the wild carrot - better photo of the insect, but I love "beggar's lice"

Tiny bee or wasp

A true bug on cactus

Bee on sunflower

Spider with prey

Butterfly with an unfamiliar wildflower

Garden spider - master weaver

Grasshoppers

More grasshoppers

OK. I took this photo in my garden. It was almost a "Where's Waldo?" photo as the greens are all the same...

Another of my photos - unknown insect on purple leather flower (clematis)





I should note that I love insects. This obsession began with the children's 9th grade biology insect collection assignment. It continues...



Three crows under the waning gibbous moon

I was never much of a number cruncher.

But there is something in me that needs to count things.

The pups and I got an early start today. We left the house in the dark of pre-dawn, under the dim light of a waning gibbous moon. We hustled down the deserted street at a fast pace as the rain had washed away "the good smells."  No one felt the need to braid their lead or stop short or jerk the walker to and fro.

So, undistracted, I started counting - to mark how early we actually were.

I suppose it will become a game...numbers listed at the end of each post. [Only counting on the way to the park. We often dawdle too much in the park to count everything we see on the way home.]

The humidity was better than it has been the last few days, but still high. The clouds in the east were grey and oppressive, but those facing us on the walk west shown bright white with blue shadows. [This makes no sense for a morning walk, but there is was...brighter in the west.]

On our way back up the street we stopped to talk to the lady of the lovely yard. She mourned the fact that the volunteer sunflower would soon be gone. We talked of shrimp plants and zinnias and she reminded me of all the gardeners I have known who shared plants and waited to see what would sprout.

Some say angels hang out in the library. That may be true. I think they hang out in gardens too.


The morning count:

cars - 17 (passing us)
dogs barking - 1
cats - 1 (stealthily prowling)
people in yard - 1
crows - 3 (perched on the dead tree across from the park)
people in the park - 4 (Dewayne, Sissy, running man and man in white truck...weirdly waiting...)

And all under a waning gibbous moon...

Flags (and tomatoes)

Neighbors' decorations for the 4th

A friend asked me what I write about...

How do I explain that it is this?

And this...

My neighbors' tomatoes turning red

Good Sunday morning...firecracker plants and flags

Storms blew through the area last night cooling things off I had thought. But this morning the humidity condensed on our bodies as soon as we stepped out the door.

Still, we all needed to walk. And so we did.

It is full dark at 5:30. And we noticed our "glow in the dark" leash does shine in the flashlight beam. The lights on the other leash have been blinking for two days -since taking a dip in the creek. The lights grow dim, but continue.

We started our preparations for the walk at 5:00, but packing and feeding, coffee making et al. ate the time. And packing for the pups is as involved as packing for babies - plastic bags, water, flashlight, treats, phone, wallet, keys, and coffee (OK, the coffee is for DH and me). When I walk alone I have even more gear, but DH joined me today so I was less "loaded down."

The deer (we knew they would be there) ran along the ditch that spans the length of the park. One doe stood facing us until we were within about 25 feet before another, hidden in the brush, gave the warning bark and all disappeared.

We took our old "round the park" walk. The park was empty of people on this damp and hazy Sunday morning.

We decided to check the ash seeds (we are not sure when they will mature enough to be harvested) and walked down the dirt road to the meadows. More deer could been seen in the far meadow. This was definitely the right time to see animals, but it was hard to celebrate as we were humidity-weary.

The birds flitted around us as we walked the road, as if they thought this was some Disney movie.

The air smelled of damp and dust with a slight floral overtone - like the back room of an old house.

The mud we expected on the road was absent. The ground is so parched that the rain of last evening was absorbed into the dust and cracks with barely a notice. More rain is forecast for the next few days and the ground is still thirsty for it.

We dragged ourselves back up the hills towards home buoyed by the sight of the line of small American flags along the top of a the chain link fence (of the family of munchkins who humor my bad Spanish).

After releasing the dogs and recovering the cane I left hanging on the gate, I noticed a hummingbird at my firecracker plant. 

Good Sunday morning.


[Cannot catch those hummers with my camera, but I will go back for a flag photo...watch this space.]

A Whirlwind of dragonflies

DH and I headed to the creek for a ramble with the pups. We walked upstream about 100 yards and found that peaceful beauty Texas streams have provided me all my life - gurgling rapids, skeletal falls of trees, buzzing insects.

The mostly full moon was a ghost above us as we frightened the fish with our twelve splashing feet...and we were delighted by the whirlwind of dragonflies along the water.

View down to the creek

Tissue paper moon

Creekside

Looking east as the sun starts to clear the trees

Fallen tree at rapids

[Only as we turned back did we note the "GO BACK" written on the concrete sewer surround higher up on the creek bank]