Visitors in the Drain Field

More Texas Wildlife

The deer, when they came to the feeder were so cute, especially the little babies.

 

Other "animals" came to the feeder to - like these green jays.

 

We went out to a different owl house and found another screech owl.

 

I also got a few decent pictures of the turkeys that came to the feeder.

Here are a few more shots of the pigs.

There was also a banana spider near the house.

On our way out we visited the Longhorn mascot again.

 

 

Finally, here is a pastel drawing I did of deer at the feeder.

 

The Wild West of Texas

We saw so many different kinds of animals and birds during our little weekend in the country.
Here is our shed.



The very first sign of wildlife we saw was in our own sink, where this guy was waiting patiently in the sink for help going home from the party.

 

We travelled around in a royal limo, inspecting the property and looking for road runners.

Part of the duties was to post signs and inspect the fence.

That's a good days work done!

It was time to sit back and look for animals. One of the first ones we saw ws this hawk.

We also saw this guy ...

 

 

The first day I made sure to get up early so I could watch the "deer" feeder go off. Out there, just about everybody has a deer feeder which shoots a small amount of corn off at a time you get to set. We were told our time was 7:28 in the morning, so about 6:40 we started intensely watching out the window so we wouldn't miss the event of the day. After about an hour of intense scrutiny we decided we must have misheard and the time was probably really 8:30, so we watched intensely again, but finally we decided we had better go check things out. We did a test and got thoroughly pelted with the hard kernels of corn and only then discovered that the timer was set for PM instead of AM.

It didn't matter so much since we had done a test discharge and eventually the animals figured out that there was food available. 

Of course the first thing we saw was a stampede of invasive European domestic pigs.

 

The little ones hung back until they were sure it was okay, and then they sped in too.

 

later the pigs left and the deer came. 

On a walk we got to see this little gut. (Close up below)

 

What follows (in no particular order) are other things we saw during our visit.

This quail was a bit camera shy.

I know my sister won't love this picture - especially since she isn't smiling, but I just love her "look" and the way her snake boots match her shirt. I had to put the picture up (at least until she makes me take it down.)

The organic design of this thicket fascinated me.

 Classic deer pose.

 

This was the first time I'd ever seen a tarantula in the wild.

 

And this was what I was most hoping to see. It took a little patience and a lot of  shots, but I finally got a decent image of a road runner.

 

Eat to Live, But Enjoy It

Yes, I have been gaining weight. I sit far too much these days (and spend far too much time at this computer and on this blog.) I've developed plantar fascitis in my feet and it makes walking uncomfortable, so my usual very active lifestyle has been impaired.

Yesterday my husband very innocently asked me if I was over 200 pounds. He is a wonderful loving person and does not realize the implication of his question in psychical pain. Let me explain - I am under five foot two and would have to gain quite a bit of weight to reach the magic 200 point (Let me just add here that I don't have any problem with people being over 200 pounds or overweight - but I really want to lose weight so I don't have to have knee surgery or diabetes like my mother.) The point is I have been struggling with my weight and my husband has vastly overestimated the degree of obesity in which I have enveloped myself.

You can see that I love to complain, but there are times when the world around me administers a gentle dope slap to remind me that I am indeed very fortunate and a little poundage here or (and) there does not a nuclear holocaust make. In fact everything around me speaks of peacefulness and calm. I live in a rural area and work at a college campus in the midst of the woods. Not only did I see wild turkeys on my way to work yesterday, but also some other wonderfully harmonic scenes. I am not always as quick with the camera as I would like and only got this next image from a considerable distance.



Here is a slightly closer detail:



Yes, it was a mother deer with a faun that couldn't be more than a few weeks old. The father is grazing watchfully on the right.

At the moment, our campus is full of visitors that put ripples in the tranquility of the place: Parents wanting to see where their children will be coming to school, visiting scholars for conferences, first year students being oriented. As I passed one of the many immaculately groomed flower beds, something out of place caught my eye. Nothing seemed to move, but as I focused my eyes I noticed a slight oscillation:



Indeed, it was an ear twitch and a masticating jaw line.



At first I thought he must be yet another incursion from beyond, yet no one around me seemed even to notice his presence. I thought ruefully about the beautiful flowers that were no doubt being decimated by this mangy pest and wondered if I should seek legal intervention against this blatant floral pillaging. It also occurred to me that the University should consider using this marauder's image as a marketing ploy, emblazoning his image on a poster stating: "Everyone's welcome here!" That would be more typical of the compassion showed by the monastery that is my employer.

Then I took a closer look at what the invisible invader was eating:



It was clover! I would not need to alert the legal authorities, and would not have the guilt of a leporidic soul on my karmic balancesheet. The flowers would be unassaulted, the garden would remain lovely and inviting for the guests. I was pleased to know this little secret and may have slightly winked in the bunnie's direction as he turned and headed for home. I'm not sure, but I think he returned a wave of his tail as he disappeared into the brush.