A few days before Thanksgiving, this little beastie was on the prowl, cruising through a picnic shelter at the Brazoria Wildlife refuge before heading down the boardwalk, sliding into the grass, and disappearing into the water.
Perhaps he’d heard rumors that a feast was coming and, having seen A Christmas Story, hoped to follow in the footsteps of the Bumpus’s hounds.
While I doubt that turkey showed up on his Thanksgiving menu, he surely found a different tidbit or two for which to be grateful. I was grateful that he seemed willing to pose, and that he was small.
Comments always are welcome.
If you haven’t yet seen A Christmas Story, I highly recommend it.
Given the form of the ripples, I suspect this juvenile Snowy Egret (Egretta thula) had its eyes on a crab rather than a fish.
Its yellow feet, sometimes called ‘yellow slippers,’ make these birds unmistakable as adults, but it can be easy to confuse young Snowy Egrets with juvenile Little Blue Herons. In this case, the lime green leg color, the black bands on the front of the legs, and the crouched foraging posture helped to confirm its identity.
Although I watched and waited for nearly ten minutes, the strike I anticipated never came: the prey continued to swim, and the bird continued to watch. If patience be a virtue, this is a very virtuous bird.
Comments always are welcome. Click on any photo for greater size and detail.
Show all the blooms, but show them slant (with apologies to Emily Dickinson)
For weeks I chased Maximilian sunflowers (Helianthus maximiliani) like a birder in hot pursuit of a rare species. Initially, I thought I’d found them at the Attwater refuge, but after both a friend and a member of the refuge staff persuaded me that my glorious find was swamp sunflower (Helianthus angustifolius), I knew I’d have to look farther.
One morning, in the process of just roaming around, I passed a patch of vibrant yellow leaning against a pasture fence. Even at 60 mph, it seemed unusually substantial, so a mile down the road I turned around in a driveway and hustled back to the fence. My instincts had been right. The flowers were Maximilians: beginning to fade, but still glowing as they slanted into the rising light.
I’d always assumed Maximilians were a central-Texas-and-north flower, but I’d missed seeing that the USDA map suggested otherwise. I began looking more closely, and on a small patch of land less than a quarter mile from the Galveston/Brazoria county line, I found them again. Well on their way to forming seed, their little patch of land had escaped both public and private mowers.
As the day progressed, haze from burning fields obscured the morning’s pure blue skies, but added a certain delicacy to some of the images. Here are a few of my favorites from that unexpected encounter.
If one bloom is good, more can be better
A few clouds provide a pleasing background
When it comes to growth, horizontal does as well as vertical
Hazy skies and scattered grasses lend a delicate air
This feels as old-fashioned as my grandmother’s kitchen
A photo-bombing leaf? It’s odd, but I like it
An attractive combination of seed head and bloom
The plant’s graceful leaves deserve equal time
A late season treat for pollinators
Comments always are welcome.