Author: Steve

 

 

Sometimes, this is the best look we get at a bird.  The challenge is to identify all the birds we can, often from incomplete information.  The white eye ring, small size, and long tail make this look like a blue-gray gnatcatcher.

 

Sure enough, when we get a better look, that’s what it is.

 

 

The little green dot in the reeds across the pond.  It’s pretty far away, even with high magnification.

 

That’s a green kingfisher.

 

This cool guy in the tree.

 

It’s a monk parakeet, who ends up giving us a great view.

 

 

 

 

The King’s salt.

 

And this is where they got that salt; a shallow hypersaline lake seven times saltier than the ocean.  It was an important source of salt for the earliest Americans, then the Spanish, Mexicans, and Texans as each arrived.  It continues to serve as a source of salt for native animals.  It’s a protected wildlife preserve now.  Even as salty as that water is, it is an important stopover for migrating birds, and winter home to 10% of the world’s population of long-billed curlews.

 

The preserve is a half-hour drive from our house.  The lake itself is about a one-mile walk from the parking area, so that cuts down on the amount of visitors.  Once you get to the lake, it’s a crunchy walk along the shore on the dried salt.

 

Off to one side, there is a little freshwater spring.

 

Birds on the way in and out.

 

 

 

Long-billed curlews in the water.

 

And least sandpipers along the shoreline.

 

 

It can get a person feeling moody; reflecting on their time in the military.  The year I spent in Viet Nam; one word doesn’t describe what my reflections trigger; melancholy, sad, somber; it’s a combination.  In a tropical war zone, ever wary of the constant danger, sometimes in foxholes, sometimes rolled up in a poncho sleeping in the rain and mud, sometimes being shot at, without enough decent food to eat; the experience left an indelible mark on me and on every other person there.  We did this because we were called on in service to our country.  I was one of the lucky ones who got to home.  Fifty thousand of us died in that effort.

 

Now, these years later we face another even more deadly threat, right here in our own land.  In one year this invisible viral enemy has killed five times the number of Americans as in the ten years of the Viet Nam war; and all of these newly dead are not off in some distant land, but right here at home, on our own soil, dying without their loved ones by their sides; and it gets worse every day.  We have an opportunity to hold this menace at bay while we wait for reinforcements.  It’s our next call to duty.  We can follow CDC guidance by wearing masks, distancing, and washing our hands.  It may not be what we want to be doing, but just like before, when you can see what needs to be done, you just do it.

 

Is this such a sacrifice that it goes beyond what we Americans should be asked to do for our country?  Is wearing a mask an infringement of our individual rights?  I don’t think so.  We know what real hardships are.  This is not a difficult ask.  It’s not an assault on our freedoms, it’s an inconvenience.  Can we all just put on our masks for a few more months, spare as many American lives as we can, and get a handle on this thing?

 

 

 

Jon the bird guy, now Jon the bug guy too, identified the butterfly for me.

 

It’s a Pipevine Swallowtail.  Now it’s stuck in my head.  Before, I only knew Monarchs, Queens; and maybe Snouts and a few moths.  Now I accidentally learned another one.  I’ll have to go find a different butterfly to not recognize.

 

 

 

I watch birds.  I don’t watch butterflies.  I can’t afford the time it would take for another compulsion.  But every once in a while, a butterfly leaps in front of my camera and I have to take a picture or two.

 

If I was actually looking for butterflies and watching them, I’d be able to tell you what kind of butterfly this is.

 

 

 

 

Okay.  Maybe I looked at a few butterfly pictures, but this doesn’t look completely like a brown swallowtail, so my butterfly integrity remains intact.  I don’t know what kind of butterfly this is, perched on a Texas Lantana.