Dry Spring

tired again
though winter’s rest is over
sun dried chill blows
through a honeysuckle covered
briar patch

Respite cut short
by an early drought

balmy aroma settles sluggishly
among prickles and poison ivy
like artificially flavored syrup
on bleached, deep fried bread

stripped of nutritional purpose
sweet intoxication deteriorates




I don't know what happened to our April showers here in Texas. It's been over a month since we've seen rain, which is unusual for Houston.

Yea Spring!

I can sit out on my front porch...



without being attacked by mosquitoes.



or in the grass next to Ilma's Garden,...



enjoy a cool breeze,...



and get excited about all my little seedlings that are sprouting. These will be sunflowers pretty soon. I posted more pics here on my blog.

Lynda's Garden

Lynda's Poem

You embellished my life
with the last five years of yours
Adorned it with stories
from your animal rescue adventures
while I cried on your shoulder
after losing mine
Bejeweled it with bead work
made from our treasure hunt bounty
while helping me blow dust off mine
Illuminated it with photographic treks
no one else had the patience to join
Enriched it with gardens
that renewed environmental wonder
and recycled life

Hours spent in unspoken mirth
or in epic laughter
We shared the same muse
Your diagnosis was terminal
yet you filled life
with life and gave it back
Until the last harvest moon

It’s been a year since then
My camera and beads have
once again gathered dust
But, an overgrown flower bed
outside my door whispered
It’s creator died years ago
A thorny rose stem among weeds
Tiny begonias hidden in the grass
told the story of her love
I thought of you and recycled it

In memory of you
I took a new photo
A huge white bloom
that only opens at night
While inside my house
a bird screeched
A rescue you’d fall in love with
Thank you



Lynda passed away in October of '09. I wrote this poem for her last October. I thought it would be a fitting conclusion for the series I started here. In honor of Lynda, I've started a new garden I named "Ilma's Garden". Ilma was my boyfriend's first wife, who passed away in '99, and who originally started the garden that lays outside my front door.

Fall Color in Tennessee

These are from my trip to Tennessee last year.







This one is actually at Hot Springs North Carolina when were hiking the Appalachian Trail along the French Broad River.

The Snowy Plover in Galveston

When I was at the beach the other day, I found myself thinking about Leaf Lady Gail's post on the Snowy Plover. So, I came home and did some research.



Here's a website for The International Snowy Plover Survey. Apparently, this endangered bird's statistics are well documented along the Pacific coast where Gail lives, and now scientists are using those methods to study the Gulf Coast and Mexico where their numbers are thought to be declining also.



I see Snowy Plovers all the time, and never realized they were endangered. The book Bird Life of Houston, Galveston, and the Upper Texas Coast says that the only nesting evidence of these birds here are the fledglings sighted with their parents. No one has actually seen a nest. A 2004 Census counted 491 pairs along the Texas Coast. Counting these little guys seems to be difficult because of the constant changing of their habitat.



They like to nest in dry dunes near the tidal flats where they feed. This picture was taken at the east end of the island along the Houston ship channel, which is considered a bird sanctuary because of all the tidal sand flats and pools.



Hurricanes wipe out huge sections of these flats, washing the sand into the Houston ship channel.



Then we dredge up the sand from the bottom of the ship channel to rebuild the beaches. This is a section of East Beach that is just before the tidal flats. There was a sign saying that they're rebuilding it for sea turtles and endangered birds.



Here's a view of the reconstruction of East Beach from the tidal flats. The ship channel is to the left. The Gulf is straight ahead on the other side of the dunes.



It will probably take a while for the tidal flats to reform. Each time I go, they seem to be growing. I wasn't able to find a more current census to see if the population is declining. The 2004 Census was supposed to be a baseline for future reference.

Feeling Crabby

I would just like to thank this little guy for posing for me. All the rest crawled back up in their shells.


Dinner? ewwwwwww, yuk!

Beach Birds

I've moved close to downtown Houston now, and the good thing about this is that I'm on the side of town close to the ship channel and all the birding trails. Also, I'm only about 40 minutes from the Galveston beaches [it took me about an hour and a half before]. These pics were taken in Galveston.



I went to hike along the birding trails in Seabrook, but it turned into a mosquito fest. I didn't get any good pics from that trip. My hike turned into a jog, and it was an itchy ride home. I'm waiting for cooler weather before I go back. It's still in the 80's around here.



These last two were taken at sunset. The one above looks like they have pink butts :]

More Jellyfish

These are from Galveston. I'm not sure what kind they are. I've not seen them with the pink markings before.

Gone But Not Forgotten

I took these photos back in February on my last trip to Galveston. I've been meaning to post them for sometime now, but have been very distracted lately.


This was taken at the east end of the island where the bird sanctuary used to be. Somebody named Chris spray painted the words "gone but not forgotten" on the steps. The clean up process after Hurricane Ike is going to take a while, but the birds are making do. There are more photos of birds on my other blog.


This is where my favorite restaurant used to be. I'd park at the east end of the island, and walk about 2 or 3 miles, eat lunch, and then walk back.


A bit crowded here.


Making a home among the wreckage.

Living in the Moment

I went to the arboretum the other day, took pictures, and wrote this poem.



As a child, I would hide away
Within the venerable civilization of trees
There was an invisible line at the edge of our property
Once crossed, all yelling and fighting would cease

I would step into
The flute-like call of a soulful owl
The rise of loquacious locusts
Like steam after a summer rain
And then their sinking hush as I drew near
The creek spilling through pine roots
Weaving around fallen trees
Creating swirling stages of leaves dancing
Ceremoniously, at the end of their day
Like the wind-up music box ballerina
That played Lara’s Theme
The pine needles, bark, and cones that scented my bare feet
Wafting woodland perfume
Infusing a musty certitude

I used to wonder
About never going home
About living on dew berries and Honey Locust nuts
Like the people who lived here before
About pine bark boats
With a leaf for a sail
Where would it end up?
Drifting

Making birds, nests, and eggs
From the creek bed’s clay
I lived in the moment
Though, it eventually dried and crumbled
And I cried
Now, I keep returning to the forest
Searching for that world
Where I lived in the moment
But my head won’t be silent
Yelling and fighting, though I live alone

Winter Wind

Look what blew in from the north! No, hell has not frozen over, but close. It snowed in Houston yesterday. This phenomenon occurs maybe once every five years or so. We tend to get really excited when it does. In this first picture, I was trying to catch the wind blowing the snowflakes around, but my fingers were frozen, and I didn't get any good shots. This was the best I could do. I'm not used to this kind of cold.



Snow on my geraniums


Snow on my mint


Most of the snow melted as soon as it landed. I had to be quick ;]

West Texas Autumn

Every year, I travel out to west Texas to visit with my in-laws. I look forward to the peace and quiet, and the clear skies at night. All the stars amaze me every time I go, and you can hear a car driving a mile away. On the drive home, I noticed how the clear crisp air disappeared as we drove east, and a grey haze settled in. What stars you are able to see here appear blurry. I suppose the humidity has something to do with it.


This first pic was taken where we spread my husband's ashes. It's a place called The Turkey Roost, but lately we just call it The Well, because the wild turkeys don't seem to roost there anymore.


Same place, looking from a different direction.


The old knotted live oak on the dirt road up to the house.


Just wandering through the pastures. The cows followed me around until I got back to the house. I guess they thought I had food. It was funny, though, they wouldn't get too close. They have over 600 acres on this ranch.


Mistletoe on a Texas Mesquite.

Thanks Mary for putting up the new monthly themes. Sorry I dropped the ball on that one. I just forgot. The Mistletoe is my winter evergreen for this month's theme, but I have to admit, I'm just now getting in the fall mood ;]

Peek-A-Boo

This little guy lives outside my kitchen window.

We need a new theme for the month of December, like winter wind, evergreen, or global warming. I don't know. That's the best I could come up right now. Just a thought ;]

Haiku

I've been trying my hand at Haiku. Ok, I know it's the wrong time of year for this one, but it's still 85 degrees here, and I have many more photos from my summer vacation to play with.

Summer Flowers '08

These were taken on my trip to Wisconsin last summer. To see more click here.