Wild Dog at the Creek

 The land is always there...

it is you who has to return

~ Munia Khan 

It's such a lovely place.

I'm not sure how we managed to get away for a hike today. By Friday we are usually ready for a rest. We sleep later in the morning. We putter around. Naps are longer. But today I planted the seed for a hike before DH took a nap. And when he woke, he came downstairs carrying his hiking boots. I had to hustle to find mine and the rest of my gear*

We never know what we will see at this creek-side wildlife area - especially since we have been mostly absent since last spring. Construction has blocked our regular entrance. When we tried the other entrance on New Year's day we couldn't find our way to more familiar paths and areas. This is a big place, crisscrossed with deer trails (many widened by hunters). We saw interesting things January 1st, but we wanted to take familiar trails today and see what was up - if flowers were blooming yet or the creek was up.

Zelda needed a good run too and she seemed to enjoy hopping through the dry grass and running in the creek. She went on alert twice, but could not decide if she was left-pawed or right. In either case she alerted on imaginary foes (we saw nothing). Maybe she was simply excited to be out in the wild. Maybe the dry breeze-blown stalks startled her.

Right paw...

...left paw

Only the anemones are blooming so far, but bits of green here and there promise a lovely spring. Crows were making a ruckus across the creek. Vultures flew overhead. We will be back as the wildflowers take off in the next few weeks. For now I photographed the few things I recognized and noted in iNaturalist.**

Anemone

This dried remains was well over my head. It's an annual, not a shrub or tree. I'll be watching for it this year.

The creek is almost two feet below its normal level so it was a little harder to climb down,  but we did. Zelda was a little cautious, but quickly began to enjoy running in and out of the shallow stream.

Our girl didn't have much fun in the water. Ha!

And the limestone shelf along the bank was dry - allowing us to walk upstream quite a ways (that's Texan for an indeterminate distance that's far, but not too far) and do a little fossil hunting.

My companions

I was the only one really looking for fossils. I watch my feet when walking on the uneven ground but also because I know this area is rich in fossils. Once I found the first one it seems I found another with each step. Nothing was just resting on the shelf. Everything was embedded in the limestone.

We avoided the broken beer bottles and other trash, watched the bees drink, and noted the evidence of predators - deciding this was likely coyote scat.

Scat.

This is the time of year that proves the saying, "everything in Texas bites, stings, or sticks you." The eryngo plants scratch as we walk by. Barb covered brambles trip the incautious. Thorny trees and prickly pear wait (for me to brush against them by accident). And snakes, well, social media indicates the snakes are on the move. So we took our time as we headed back through brambles, across meadows, beyond old fence lines now grown up with threes, and around other thorns and stickers.

Zelda makes her way carefully through the brambles. Whose idea was this?

Common Devil's Claw - often found along damp areas.

Rough Cocklebur - another riparian plant.

A promise of Bluebonnets to come.

As we headed towards the gate it was easy to see how Zelda survived in the wild before she came to live with us. She blends in perfectly.

Looking back from the gate.

As we drove home I snapped a photo of the cars parked "across the way." These were likely the shooters and I figure it never hurts to document...and wear an orange vest.

NOTES:

*Long pants, bright orange hunter's vest, cell phone (for communication and camera) and binoculars.

** iNaturalist.org - social media for nature nerds.

A couple of other photos with no place to go:

I've never seen one of these snails before. It's in the "ram's horn" family according to the snail lady.

Vultures circled overhead. We don't think they wanted us.