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.
A walk at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge to detox.
We still don’t know whether to celebrate or just drink. It could be a long sober night.
Bird blinds and feeding stations. That’s what we have when we sit on our deck for morning coffee every morning at home. That’s what we look for in state parks. Additionally, we can make one wherever we go when conditions are right, and they are right, here at Falcon.
And an orange crowned warbler bathing in the sprinkler mist.
We’re headed home tomorrow. We have a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator, ready to celebrate election night or get drunk, depending on the outcome. In 2016 I actually said out loud once that I didn’t care how the election turned out, I just wanted it to be over. This time around, I’m being more specific.
We’re the only people in this entire section of the park.
We’re not far from the Rio Grande river.
It’s nice here. Shoulder season. We’re past the heavy heat of summer, and before a lot of Winter Texans get here. It’s wide open, comfortable, and quiet.
