The deluge

It happened right after yesterday’s photo.

A neighbor’s rain gauge recorded four inches of rain in the next hour or so.

Right at the same time as this photo, it turns out there was an Amazon delivery.  There might sometimes be an Amazon delivery van, but Amazon also contracts with various private drivers to make their deliveries, so there is no consistency for who shows up with the packages.  Rather than having inexperienced people driving all around the park trying to find lot numbers, there is an Amazon delivery box inside the park at the office.  We’re gated, so to get inside and access the delivery box, the driver has to stop at the gate, punch the button to call the office, and the office will trigger the gate to open.  Once inside, the driver puts each delivery for the day in the delivery box, snaps a photo to document the deed, and leaves.

Apparently, the office didn’t pick up for this driver’s call yesterday, so the driver faced a conundrum.  I have deliveries to make.  The gate won’t open.  What to do?  Delay the delivery and try again the next day?  No.  Different decision.  This is the photo we got to announce our Amazon delivery.

All the deliveries for that day.  Piled on the ground at the foot of the call box.

Moments before the deluge.

In this bush

There is a Chachalaca.

It’s a big chickenlike bird.  It ranges from the south tip of Texas down through Eastern Mexico to the Yucatan Peninsula.  Noisy at dusk and dawn, it sits quietly in cover during a hot summer day.

Not really visible in the first picture, it appears in the one above.

And now we can see another one right below it.

These are the only ones I saw, but there could be so many more that went unnoticed.

Another thought

We have four hummingbird feeders up.  I refill at least one of them every day.  Usually, the hummingbird food is room temperature.  Sometimes it’s still a little warm from the stove, but not much.  Yesterday we had some left over, so I put it in the fridge.  Today I got it out, refilled a feeder, and hung it back up outside.  That made me wonder.  If hummingbirds drink ice cold nectar too fast, do they get tiny little headaches behind their eyes?

And the beat goes on

At about 50 beats per second.

The charming little creatures are so focused on food that a person can stand right next to the hanging feeder, and they will continue to buzz about all around and in front of that person’s head.  A tiny cacophony of chattering, buzzing of the wings, and the occasional splat as two birds meet midair, each vying for the right to feed exclusively at the nearby never-ending food source.  (And while they’re battling, ten other birds are standing quietly on the feeder eating.)  High drama.  And nerves of steel required of the observer to stand in the middle of such an intense random dart game without flinching.