Cherished Garden Guests

Not Here to Stay

       Jeff Masters, whose blog I frequently visit, confirms that Texas will remain dry and warmer than usual through winter and spring. Argh. Here are a couple of outlook maps I snagged from his blog:

      La Nina is not here to stay, thank Goodness for that; but, unfortunately, neither are our trees, and so we may witness many more die.

Spotting Panhandle Birds

      Great birding, for a gnome who had no plans to birdwatch. Spotted four Golden Eagles -- or the same one several times -- and a huge flock of Sandhill Cranes south of Pampa. I felt amazed to see the images below after downloading them on my computer. I took them from the back seat of a truck as we bounced along country roads. I am encouraged to think how much better I could have experienced my photography if I would have used a tripod and stood still. I spotted many other birds but did not identify them as we sped past them.

Sandhill Cranes.

Mottled Duck in flight.

Mottled Duck all by herself.

Red-bellied Woodpecker.

Rump shot of a male Yellow-shafter Flicker.

I like this image because it shows a bit of the habitat of the Lark Sparrow. He sits on one of the t-posts.

Panhandle Plains Backdrop

At left, batteries that hold oil, and in the distance, silos that store grain serve as the background for the Sandhill Cranes.

Oil pumps work away in the background as Sandhill Cranes feast on insects in a cut wheat field.

     Driving around the countryside on business we spotted a huge flock of Sandhill Cranes noshing on Charles' wheat and corn. The fellow driving the truck MyMrMallory and I were in would annoyingly not stop for me to take pictures -- and I really did not want to slow down his business by stopping every few hundred feet to take a picture of a bird, no matter what kind of bird, an awesome Golden Eagle an awesome flock of thousands of Sandhill Cranes. This led me to exercise my skill at grabbing shots from a moving vehicle as we bumped along country roads. His job: Count water mills on a ranch; my job: grab shots. 

     Having grabbed a couple hundred shots, I had to delete too many to count because they were blurry. Not easy taking sharp pics from a bouncy truck. But what I did have in the end were some interesting views of the Panhandle Plains of Texas. Behind the cranes one can see some of the background that shows how many people earn a living from farming, ranching, and drilling. 

Sandhill Cranes fly over a wheat and corn fields. Below them in the picture, water accumulated in the wheat field deeply enough to provide a resting area for a large number of teals. 

The teals fly off as our truck approached the water. In the background part of the flock of cranes grazes Charles' wheat.

At the bottom of the picture one can see the pivot that provides water to the corn. Those are teals flying above it. 

The Sandhill Cranes stood on a nearby cut wheat field to nosh on insects. Note the vast farmland in the distance.

The Towers that Carry Energy

The size of the trucks give one an idea of the size of the towers. The area around the towers shows the commensurate destroyed foliage that leads to decreased wild life habitat.

On the ground, where they belong, rather than in the air, holding wind-blown lines that cause sparks. We have so many millions of miles of roads: Why not follow them instead of destroying more habitat? 

Praying Mantis

Swainson's Heading South

        Happily I watched several dozen Swainson's Hawks joined in a kettle of Turkey Vultures as they headed south during their fall migration. Some of them will reach as far as the pampas in Argentina, while some may winter in Florida. Their journey encompasses the landmass between New Jersey and Argentina. One can spot thousands, particularly in the narrow part of the American continent at Panama.
        Swainson's will eat mice and other small animals, but they will predominantly eat insects. For more details about their habits and other information, see Hawks in Flight, by Pete Dunn, David Sibley, and Clay Sutton, ISBN 0-395-42388-0.
       I spotted this large group of perhaps two or three hundred (including Vultures) hovering southward over Hico.

White and Homeless in Everywhere

       I leaned against the ADA compliant railing on the corner of Pecan Street and the main drag through Everywhere, Texas. I wanted to get under way, but I settled in to listen when a local man stopped to visit with me while I photographed one of the old buildings on the corner. That's the old post office, he said.

       He told me that he'd been homeless for a year and a half and lived in a tent in a nearby forest, not far down the street.
     "What happened to you?" I asked him.
     "My wife divorced me," he said, "so I came back here where I have kin, but I lived in the forest. I used to be a school teacher. I came here and looked for a job but couldn't find anything, so I volunteered as a janitor over there," he said, pointing to one of the buildings. "I think I'm pro'ly the best toilet bowl cleaner in town."
     "Gotta count for somethin'."
     "Yeah, and then I helped a bit at the museum, and I also helped the African Americans research for their heritage, but that didn't go over very well with some folks."
     "Why not?"
     "East Texas is still very segregated."
     "Oh? What is the black population of this town?"
     "I don't know that any black people live here anymore. The Klan is here, you know. The blacks here used to live along the river, and they got flooded out sometimes, and if they ever crossed the railroad this much," he said spreading his hands about a yard, "they were hung." Ouch.
     "THE Klan?" I wasn't surprised by the history of the ill treatment against African Americans, but I was about the news about the Klan.
     "Yeah. They had a big membership drive recently. They're mad because President Obama got elected. It was the biggest membership drive since Martin Luther King."
     "I didn't know the Klan still existed." How naive of me.
     "They do. They're secret. They meet in the forest. They hide behind organizations like the Moose Lodge to give them some credibility."

     So I had to ponder the news. Living as a white person I do not, cannot see the abundant racism. Indeed, I may not even know the extent of my own prejudice instilled in me during childhood by a racist mother and growing up in a racist society. For many years my mother forbade me to have a friend, Marie, and I could not understand why not until I became an adult and recognized that my best friend was black and my mother was racist. One famous play, South Pacific, has a song with the lyrics "you've got to be taught to be afraid / [ . . . ] / and people whose skin is a different shade," yet, even as a child I took note of the lyrics and felt some level of disdain for, and confusion over them. It is how I felt this morning as I walked along the old street of Everywhere, a town founded in the 1860s where still such hatred as the Klan flourishes, and no doubt why culture in town remains at its level. I thought of Jahn, too, the friendly local man who took the time to tell me a bit about the history of the town, even how to pronounce it: [Ever-where]. His wife, no doubt -- and this is my theory -- could not tolerate his bleeding-heart attitudes, and tossed him out of the house.

     "That wasn't very Christian of her to do that."
     "Neither of us knew what would happen to me. I live with my faith in Lord Jesus to give me strength."
     We all need a whole lot more of Jesus around here if in 2011 there exist still people who foment hatred. But, was it all true, I wondered, what Jahn said about an organization that so despises one people, one culture, that they are compelled to hang them or burn them alive? Would they still hang a black man or woman if they took one step over the tracks? Is there still such darkness, such lack of Christ, everywhere? Remembering comments I'd heard in the past by some of the people whose paths I cross every week, the answer to my question was a painful yes. There are racists in my town and there are racists everywhere, white, black, red, and yellow. I put my camera away and drove away from there fast enough to exceed the speed limit.

Update: A local from the town responded to this post saying that it hurts the folks living there. I agree. I should  have used the name Everywhere instead of the real name, because there exists, unfortunately, racism everywhere and I would have made that point more clearly. I'm still awfully shocked by the experience of knowing that the Klan still exists, but I'm overcoming it enough to post some of the photographs I took of the wonderful old buildings in that old town.

Love the Rain; Love the Clouds

Texas has received several inches of rain the past few days. 

Clouds have looked gorgeous for days. 

Rain Headed Our Way

The weatherman predicts heavy rainfall in our neck of the woods.

Update: 3.95 inches at our house.

Finally, Camera in Hand, Clubs Put Away

      I volunteered to take pictures during the Women's Tournament and wound up substituting for a player, adding to my load at the golf club (and to my body, ouch). The third day, though, I did not have to play, so I spent some time driving around taking pictures and observing nature. I spotted a few Mallard Ducks and a Widgeon, several Robins, a load of goldfinches, and a couple of mockingbirds. I thought I saw a Red-tailed Hawk. In terms of birdwatching, I expected to see more, but the drought has changed the patterns. I saw several species of the smaller wild flowers that no doubt thrive under the golf course's sprinkler systems. It was beautiful out there.

The top contenders hard at work at play. 

The crew watered by hand all the greens all summer long. The added TLC shows. 

I especially appreciate the added TLC to the grand trees.

The Mesquite Plant hasn't noticed we are suffering through a drought, hardy fellow!

Many Mistletoe plants have withered and dried up while the Mesquite continues to grow seed pods.

Maybe in Ten Years

         Maybe in ten years I might walk across the golf course as often as I did this week. I completely changed my mind since yesterday when three times I exclaimed, "I will chuck it all to become a full time golfer." In spite of not having swung at a golf ball in many months, nay, years, I happened to play only because the organizers of the tournament asked me to substitute for a player. While at first I felt enthralled to find myself surrounded by the lovely landscaping and old trees, once the game began, I realized that the activity I really felt any interest in engaging was photography. Time and again I wanted to stop the golf cart to take a picture, but, you know, that's obnoxious to do during the game. So whenever my opponent occupied herself with her shot, I surreptitiously slipped out my iPhone and clicked away at some of the magnificent old trees. And if I could have shot macro with the iPhone, I would have crawled on my knees to capture the beauty of a flower, a stone, a fallen leaf, a damselfly . . . 

First Tournament in Ten Years

TLG: [Breathes deeply the cool air. Looks around at beautiful trees and golf course.] I'm going to chuck it all to become a full-time golfer.
Michael: Yeah. That flyin's gotta be fun, though.
TLG: [Ponders comment. Ponders chucking flying.] Yeah, you're right. I might just keep flyin'.

iPhone Images.

Nature, How Long Thou Art Dry?

Three dry ponds.

Yellow substance in the murky waters of a drying pond.

Hardy plants survive in a pond's bottom.

Lillies have turned an eerie color.

Dry trees surrounded by crisp dry grass.

Burnt trees from above provide another gut-striking abstract of Nature's drought art. 

How muddy and boggy the cattle crossing may have become after a rain.

The windmill might have filled the tank if it had water to siphon from beneath the surface. 

Cows have to drink water from algae-ridden waters. 

An island emerges in the middle of a pond.