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Archive for the ‘Nature’ Category

 “Don’t threaten me with love, baby. Let’s just go walking in the rain.” – Billie Holiday

Just because there are storm clouds overhead doesn't mean one can't find beauty below. Photo of Antelope Island by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

When one sleeps with their head just a couple of feet below the roof, and that roof is only about three inches thick, rain becomes a very personal thing.

Billie Holiday at two years old in 1917. -- Wikipedia photo

That’s how it felt last night when the sky above me continuously dumped its blessings on Texas’ water-starved landscape. The ping, ping, pinging, while interrupting my sleep, still sounded delightful to my ears.

The rain was still on my mind when I set down to write this blog, and so it seemed logical to write about it. When I went searching for a quote to accompany it, the one above by Billie Holiday stopped me cold. Perhaps it was because the rain was still coming down outside and I knew I would probably be walking my canine traveling companion, Maggie, in the rain this day.

The quote, however, also led me on one of those Internet explorations that I frequently take these days in search of information. I already knew Billie Holiday was a singer who set the blues and jazz worlds on fire with her music while scandalizing the world at the same time with her behavior. But I wanted to know more.

Billie Holiday was a dog lover, too. And her dog's name was Mister. -- Wikipedia photo

I found it, and it touched me. Reading about the life of this Black woman, who was raped as a child and spit on because of her color, brought the rain to my eyes. No wonder, I thought, had “God Bless the Child,” Billie’s most popular recording, been so powerful. She had to have sung it with all the emotions of an abused child’s heart.

And yet, if we are to believe her words, she could still feel the joy of simply walking in the rain.

How can I, whose life these days feels powerfully blessed, treat a walk in the rain as anything other than a delightful treat?

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“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” – Martin Buber

 

American woodcock. The one we saw at Brazos Bend had a beautiful red belly but flew away too quickly for me to get a photograph. -- Wikipedia photo

 

Travels With Maggie

The best option I’ve found to dump the holding tanks in my RV when I’m visiting my son in Lake Jackson is Brazos Bend State Park. The compensation for making the 80-mile round-trip drive is that the Texas park, known for its alligators, is one of my favorite places to bird.

I announced my intentions of making the drive to my son, Lewis, asking if he would like to make the trip with me. He passed the word along to his wife, Karen.

“Mom needs to take a dump at Brazos Bend,” is how he put it, which suddenly became a standing joke among us.

Saturday, the two of them, also birders, joined me for the adventure. Arriving at the park, I renewed my annual Texas State Park pass, then took care of Gypsy Lee’s business while Karen and Lewis walked Maggie and watched a flock of cedar waxwings.

 

But this red-eyed fellow, a black-crowned night heron, posed nicely for me. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Ten minutes after I had put on plastic gloves, hooked up a sewer hose and pulled levers, Gypsy Lee’s holding tanks were empty and I was ready to join the birding party.

We decided to hike the Hoots Hollow trail near the park entrance. It was a good choice.

One of the first birds we saw as we entered the moss-dripping forest was an American woodcock. It was cause for great joy as the bird was a lifer for all three of us. It brought my list of species seen up to 699.

But the benefits of having to drive to Brazos Bend to dump didn’t end there. Just as we were about to exit the trail, I got my 700th species, a Swainson’s thrush. It had been quite awhile since I had added any new bird species to my life list, and to get two in one day was fantastic.

Our continued birding around Forty Acre Lake was also great. We ended the day with 57 species, our final one being a black-crowned night heron that posed for my camera.

The day left me looking forward to my next “dump.”

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“Looking back, you realize that a very special person passed briefly through your life, and that person was you.  It is not too late to become that person again.”   ~Robert Brault

Self Portrait

As I frequently point out, I’m a writer not a photographer. It’s a conscious decision to prioritize my life, which is already too full of the many things I do.  I’ve always wanted it all, but finally had to accept that each thing I do takes a chunk away from something else. 

Since writing is at the top of my important list,  I spend more time with a notepad than a camera.  To assure that I continue doing this, my only camera is a small pocket point-and-shoot. It’s a Canon PowerShot with a decent zoom and image stabilizer that is almost alwaays with me. It has no straps and I carry no tripod so it fits quite nicely in the right-hand pocket of my cargo pants.

Without any extra equipment, however, I was a little perturbed at this week’s photo challenge. I wasn’t sure I could take a decent  self-portrait. 

The problem must have been fermenting in my brain when I visited Brazos Bend State Park yesterday.  While I was standing on a pier that jutted into the water, taking photos of common moorhens and a big old alligator watching them from his tiny island outpost, the solution suddenly appeared below me.

Can you see me?

Self-Portrait -- Photo by Pat Bean

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 “Birth and death; we all move between these two unknowns.” Bryant H. McGill

 

Life goes on in Florida's Brevard Zoo for these two magnificent eagles, who are injured and could not survive in the wild. Have they made peace with their limited environment? Hopefully, because life goes on one way or another. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Travels With Maggie

 

As leaves of this Japanese pear tree fall, a flowering bud is eager to take its place. -- Photo by Pat Bean

I’ve reached an age when acquaintances and dear friends are dying. This past year I lost two who were especially dear to me. One had adopted me into her family for holidays when mine were far away. She made it all the way to 99 before she finally gave up her will to live. Her funeral, per her wishes, was a celebration.

Another dear friend, an irreverent writing colleague who was the life of any party and who was always making me pee from laughing so hard, also left this world. She was a year younger than me, and this death was much harder to bear.

I’m not a religious person, so I get no comfort from well-meaning comments that suggest she’s in a better place now.

It’s not that I don’t believe in this better place, I do. It’s just that I believe this better place is here and now. It’s all we have. It’s up to each of us to make it the best it can be.

Life goes on through grief. It goes on when something or someone kicks us to the ground. It goes on if we can’t afford all our wants. It simply goes on.

This is a picture that speaks louder than a thousand words, so I won't say them. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

These thoughts all roared through my brain this morning as I walked Maggie. The flowering Japanese pear tree in my son’s yard first stirred up the cacophony in my brain. As winter teases and taunts and hides in Texas’ Gulf Coast, as it’s doing today when the air conditioner in my RV is running, this small tree comes to life.

For each leaf that falls, it sends out a bud that will bloom this winter. In the background, between the pear tree’s naked limbs, is another tree, one that’s providing onlookers a rustling, reality video of brilliant color.

I find meaning and comfort in Mother Nature. Her message to me is one of reincarnation, not that I expect to come back to live another life, but that a tiny drop of who I am will become a permanent part of this planet.

 

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“It is better to travel well than to arrive.” Buddha 

This Muscovy duck wasn't shy at all. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Bird Talk

“Want to go to Texas City with me?” My son, Lewis, asked yesterday.

Giving nary a thought to the writing and other items on my busy day’s agenda, I said: “Sure.”

While the trip was a business one for my son, I knew that there would still be plenty of opportunities to see birds along the way. Lewis is as passionate about bird watching as his bird-watching mom.

Besides, road trips are my thing. Nothing makes me happier than watching life through a vehicle’s windows, especially knowing one can stop at any time for closer looks. While I once had to hit an older son just to get him to stop and let his mom go to the restroom, Lewis has always been as eager to explore the roadsides as me.

The first stop on this overcast, foggy day was at an RV park near Angleton. I had been looking for a place to dump my holding tanks and this was a possibility. While we weren’t in my RV today, I still wanted to check out the possibility.

It turned out not to be an option, but the long driveway into the park passed by a field full of killdeer, meadowlarks and mourning doves.

 

The waves rolled in from a horizon made invisible by the fog. I had my son stop along the Galveston Sea Wall so I could try and capture the day's mood. -- Photo by Pat Bean

And the park grounds turned up some Muscovy ducks, a Mexican species that’s beginning to be seen more and more of in North America. The ones we saw this day, although free to fly away, clearly preferred domestication.

They swarmed Lewis in hopes that he would have food to give them. I stood back and took pictures, enjoying the iridescent sheen of their feathers and the bright red nodules on their faces.

Back in the car, we drove on to Texas City. After my son had taken care of his business, we took the long way home through Galveston and over the San Luis Pass toll bridge to Surfside, birding as we drove.

Laughing gulls and brown and white pelicans were the seashore’s primary occupants along the Galveston Sea Wall. At LaFitte’s Cove, a small birding sanctuary in a residential section south of Galveston, the shallow pond area was full of ducks, teals, ibises, yellowlegs, coots and sandpipers.

“A good day for ducks,” said the one other birder we passed.

Indeed it was.

It was also a good day for a road trip. While I do so love sunshine, this day’s mist and fog added a hint of mystery and magic to the day’s drive – and 57 different bird species.

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“I have the world’s largest collection of seashells. I keep it on all the beaches of the world … perhaps you’ve seen it.” – Steven Wright

Wave-watching from the Quintana Jetty on the Texas Gulf Coast. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum’s latest antics in “Explosive Eighteen” called louder to me last night than the Cowboys and Giants.

This ruddy turnstone was also wave-watching. -- Photo by Pat Bean

So after dinner with my son and his family, I escaped back out to my RV to read instead of watch the Dallas Cowboy?New York Giants football game. As a Dallas native, I’m an avid cowboy fan, but I seldom watch football these days, preferring instead to read about the game the next day.

I also knew that this particularly game was going to spark family tensions. My Texan son, Lewis, would be pulling for the Cowboys, while my fantastic New Yorker daughter-in-law, Karen, would be rooting for the Giants. Both of them are rabid followers of their teams.

My son left for work before I got up this morning, but my daughter-in-law stopped by my RV to say good-bye before she left for the day. I

Footprints in the sand intrigue me. -- Photo by Pat Bean

didn’t need to ask who won. The smile on her face lit up the overcast dawn. Hopefully my son will have cheered up by the time he gets home.

In the meantime, I have errands to run. I have to mail off Christmas packages and get propane for my RV, which means a road trip from Lake Jackson to Brazoria.

After that, Maggie and I are going to the beach for a little bird-watching, wave-watching and sand-walking. I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon. Can you?

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“Both the grand and the intimate aspects of nature can be revealed in the expressive photograph. Both can stir enduring affirmations and discoveries, and can surely help the spectator in his search for identification with the vast world of natural beauty and the wonder surrounding him. – Ansel Adams

 

Vermilion flycatcher: Unlike many flycatchers that look alike, there is no mistaking this species. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Bird Talk

I’ve always wanted to know the names of things, but I wasn’t exactly pathetic about the need until I took up birding back in 1999.

I came late to this addictive passion, suddenly being amazed at all the birds around me. Where once these flying creatures were invisible, as if existing in a parallel world with a curtain drawn between them and me, suddenly I was seeing them everywhere.

My fascination with birds can be annoying to non-birders. A shadow flicks across the landscape and I lose my place in a conversation as my eyes turn upward searching for the source.

I constantly scan the tops of utility poles looking for familiar profiles. The sight of a red-tailed hawk sitting atop one causes me to yell “stop” to the car driver. A rustle or movement of leaves and I am distracted from a task. No roadside pond goes unscanned. Well, you get the idea.

 

The unique profile of a hammerkop makes it a hard bird to misidentify. But you'll have to go to the African continent if you want to see one. -- Photo by Pat bean

But seeing a bird is not enough. I must know what bird it is.

Is that a crow or a raven was one of my first identification problems. The raven is larger but size, without a comparison, is not much help. So I learned that a crow’s tail is razor straight at the end, while a raven’s tail is wedge-shaped. Ravens also are the ones who suffer bad-hair days.

Many flycatchers, meanwhile, still puzzle me. Quite a few look almost exactly alike. A long look through a good scope, and knowing preferred ranges and habitats of each species, is necessary for identifying these birds.

 

You won't find this bird in any field guide. It's a mallard hybrid. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Knowing that you’re looking at a flycatcher is easy, however. One usually sees them sitting up straight on a branch. They fly out to catch an insect and then most return to the same branch to repeat the process. If I have long enough to watch, and a good field guide, sometimes I can even figure out whether it’s a dusky or a willow, or one of several other flycatchers showing off for me.

When I was first learning to bird, there was this one particular duck that completely stumped me. While I had a really good look at the creature, I couldn’t find it in my field guide. I finally gave up and asked one of my birding mentors, who immediately broke into laughter.

The duck in question was a mallard hybrid. Since then I’ve seen a lot of these unique, but sterile offspring. Mallards, it seems, are sluts.

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 “Orange is the happiest color.” – Frank Sinatra

 

This gulf fritillary meets the 2012 suggested tangerine tango dress code -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Travels With Maggie

 

The last leaves of fall linger on the landscape's color palette -- Photo by Pat Bean

The color of 2012 is going to be orange, says Leatrice Eiseman of the Pantone Color Institute, which creates color standards for fashion and home industries.

The world doesn’t need more blues and gray. It needs a shot of energy and that’s what “tangerine tango” will give it, she predicts.

I think Mother Nature agrees with her.

While I only found the New York Times article in which Eiseman was quoted this morning while scanning the Internet for blogging inspiration, I took some photos that match her criteria for color boldness a couple of days earlier while out walking Maggie.

Thanks to an abundance of live oak trees that hold on to their green leaves through the winter, the Texas Gulf Coast escapes the blandness of many winter landscapes.

Even so, one has to look a little harder to discover the sparkling color jewels among the brown leaves, gray moss and bare flower gardens of winter here.

 

Grays and blues, however, will never go away. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Finding that shot of color, be it red berries on a yaupon holly tree or a few lingering leaves bearing fall hues always brings a smile to my face.

So I’ll be delighted if I find more orange products in 2012, especially if the colorists take their cues from Mother Nature.

“There is no blue without yellow and without orange.” — Vincent Van Gogh

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‘An old dog, even more than an old spouse, always feels like doing what you feel like doing.” — Robert Brault

 

White ibis coming in for a landing at the Sea Center in Lake Jackson on a cold morning. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Travels With Maggie

I braved the cold yesterday morning to walk the boardwalk at the Sea Center in Lake Jackson. It’s a great place to watch birds, as well as being a fish hatchery, beach/seashore museum and an aquarium.

Check it out at: http://www.texasexplorer.com/SeaCenterTexas.htm

 

A new sign marks the Bobcat Woods Trail in San Bernard National Wildlife Refuge. That's my son, Lewis, in the background. -- Photo by Pat Bean

While I had a pair of warm gloves, I never kept them on long enough for my fingers to warm up. I was too busy checking out the Audubon Bird App on the new smart phone my son gave me as an early Christmas present and taking pictures. I can use my binoculars with my gloves on, but not the phone or camera.

My photo above of the white ibis was my reward for braving the cold. It did warm up later on in the day, and my son, Lewis, and I found about 40 species. After the Sea Center, we walked Bobcat Trail at San Bernard National Wildlife Refuge.

My dog, Maggie, wasn’t happy, however. I had left her home so she could stay warm and cozy in the RV. But the dirty looks she gave me for the rest of the afternoon indicated she had wanted to go birding, too. Or at least gone for the ride.

Gypsy Lee has been parked for a week and Maggie is already getting antsy.

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Remember
This December,
That love weighs more than gold!
~Josephine Dodge Daskam Bacon

Travels With Maggie

 

Rocky considers himself a family member, too, and wonders what's beneath the tree for him. -- Photo by Pat Bean

I didn’t post a blog yesterday. And I didn’t add a 1,000 words to the travel book that I’m rewriting.

So what, you may be asking, did I do?

I walked Maggie, of course, and cleaned her ears, a daily chore because of her proneness to chronic cocker spaniel ear infection – and I went Christmas shopping.

It is that time of year you know. And because of that I’m not beating myself up too badly for what I didn’t do. You see, I’m a traitor to my gender. I HATE SHOPPING!

But on the opposite end of the spectrum, I LOVE CHRISTMAS, and giving gifts to my loved ones. The challenge for me is finding something I think each person in my growing family will like within my limited budget of $20 or less per person.

We break into this blog for an Important Announcement: Believe it or not just as I was mentioning my large family, I got a text message saying one more has been added. My granddaughter in Orlando, Florida, just delivered a beautiful (I know he is even though I haven’t seen him yet), healthy 6-pound-9-ounce boy to it.

 

Maggie and I passed this tree on our morning walk in the park across from son's home. I thought it as festive as any Christmas tree. -- Photo by Pat Bean

We now take you back to our regular program:

Anyway, I try to pick up things in my travels that I think will appeal to one loved one or another, but this year I didn’t do much of that. It left me with a hard day of shopping, but with only two presents yet to buy.

That’s actually way ahead of schedule for me. I’ve been known to frantically be shopping the stores at 8 p.m. on Christmas Eve. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go shout the news of my new great-grandchild to the world.

And then hopefully tackle my travel book.

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