Author: Steve

 

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.

 

 

On Sundays, another nice quiet place to bird.

 

 

 

 

 

And there is a covered trail that circumnavigates campus, so even if it’s crazy hot in the summer, I can still walk in the shade.

 

 

Didn’t need the shade today though; a nice fall day.

 

 

By nice fall day, I mean less than ninety degrees.

 

 

I enjoy university campuses.  Pleasant memories.  Well, except for the stressful part about graded exams.

 

 

Now we can exhale.

 

And enjoy that glass of bubbly.

 

Dancing in the streets.  We can breathe again.

 

 

 

First, a red-shouldered hawk, cruising the sky.

 

 

 

 

Then, when species collide.

 

 

A red-tailed hawk and a Harris’s hawk.

 

 

 

Ultimately, they each gained their own space and went their separate ways.

 

 

Coronavirus is still a thing.

 

A hundred thousand new infections a day.  We’re going to blow through two hundred fifty thousand deaths.

 

Judy and I continue our three-pronged strategy.  Masks, distancing, and hand sanitizing.  We can do this as long as it takes.  We miss our kids and grandkids, but this inconvenience is a good investment for the rest of our collective lives.