A thousand cranes, maybe more.
And some red-winged blackbirds.
And a white-tailed kite.
We walked some trails that ultimately led to the edge of the Rio Grande River. There were signs of border patrol in the neighborhood. Makes sense. Then we came across this plowed strip next to the river. It was so soft it didn’t make sense for it to be a walking trail. I speculated that it might be a path for the Border Patrol on their four-wheelers. They often patrol the border that way.
But then we noticed that there weren’t any four-wheeler tracks in it, just tractor tracks and our own footprints.
Oh. Wait a minute. That plowed line isn’t to drive on; it’s an indicator. If they smooth over our footprints this afternoon, the next morning they’ll be able to tell if anyone crossed the river during the night! Now there’s a simple useful tool. They can at least have a count. 
It looks like we won’t need the humidifier anymore either. 
When we put our jacks down and lift the coach to level, we’re applying a lot of force to each foot. The coach is so heavy, on warm asphalt, we can actually punch permanent potholes in the surface. So whenever we’re on asphalt, we always put jack pads down under each jack foot. That dissipates the weight and makes it less likely that we’ll screw up a nice RV pad. They made these jack pads bright yellow because if they weren’t so obvious, a person could forget they were there and drive of without them.
On a related note, thank you brother Tom for bringing that renegade bright yellow jack pad home to us from Seattle after our last stay there. We’ve moved on. Now we’re back at Sandpipers in Edinburg. 