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Far away birds

 Sometimes when I walk at Charlie’s Pasture the birds are far away.  I have binoculars, but I can’t identify shorebirds out on the mudflats that far away with 8 power magnification.  The scope is bulky to carry very far, so I don’t carry it out there.  No problem.  I have my time-lapse scope with me.  My camera.  It fits in my pocket.  I can’t make any identification through the viewfinder of the camera, so I still don’t know what I’m looking at when I take the pictures, but it’s a 20 power lens.  When I get home and transfer the pictures to the computer I get to see what I saw. From far away, I saw a Least Sandpiper. A Semi-palmated Plover. This one looks like a Piping Plover. And I found a couple Short-billed Dowitchers in front of some Black-necked Stilts.  One is really letting the other have it! 
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Ouch!

 We started the day at the dermatologist.  He thinks he’s a cowboy.  He carries the liquid nitrogen canister in a holster.  Judy and I each got shot at least 20 times.  Well, one of the three of us had a good time anyway. Stopped by the Nursery and picked up a couple more Mediterranean Fan Palms.  Got them all wrapped up and stuck in the back of the Jeep.  Went back to the house, packed up, loaded up the computers, dogs, and drugs, and drove back to the beach. We’re at Port Aransas again, but only for a few days.  We’ll take the motorhome back to the Valley with us this weekend.  No more motorhome at the beach until next October. It’s good to be here. 
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TV Ears

 We went to the Audiologist.  I thought I couldn’t hear high pitches anymore but that’s not true.  I can hear them, but not at realistic levels.  That’s why I can hear the sound of a squeaky little bird on my Ipad, but can’t hear it when it happens in the wild.  Squeaky little birds don’t make the sound as loud as I can turn up my Ipad! Judy is different.  One ear hears and the other tapers off.  Now I know which is the “good ear” to talk into. Neither one of us can sort out dialog on the television anymore.  The audiologist could have prescribed hearing aids for each of us, but said if our only day-to-day problem was understanding what was said on television, we should just buy some TV Ears, as seen on the infomercials.  She says that will work as well as hearing aids. I guess we’ll sit in our recliner chairs wearing our TV Ears, smiling at the television, and clapping for the lights to go on and off.  
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Illegal encounter

 I had one over the weekend.  I didn’t mean to.  I was just out for a walk.  I walk every day.  We’re in Way South Texas so I’m often near the border. I was walking in the Chihuahua Forest Preserve west of Mission: https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=205131835882428706345.0004c306c6fbbc83fc8a4&msa=0&ll=27.532629,-98.151855&spn=3.326514,7.113647 It was quiet and birdy until the helicopter came, then it got hard to hear if there were any birds there or not.  It’s not unusual for helicopters to fly over but it is unusual for them to fly so low for so long.  I don’t usually see Border Patrol agents on foot either, but I did this time.  Two of them, separately, charging down the path, each briefly wishing me a good morning as they passed, one of them asking if I had seen anyone else on the trail.  Someone else, the target of their attention, clearly was *not* having a good morning. I continued my walk.  Eventually, all quieted down and I was alone with my thoughts and birds again.  My thoughts stayed with illegal immigration.  We tend to address illegal immigration as a one dimensional issue, but I think there is more to it than that.  We have criminals crossing the border to smuggle drugs, but we also have people who aren’t criminals until they cross.  Some just want find a job so they can work and support their families.  Try to imagine having a hungry family, there are no jobs where you are, but there are jobs just across the border.  What would you do? Our border patrol controls the U.S. side.  The drug cartels control the Mexican side of the border.  You have to get permission from the local cartel to cross.  If you are carrying drugs for the cartel, you have permission.  If you want to cross the river to find work, first you have to pay the Cartel for the privilege.  If the Border Patrol catches you on our side, they send you home.  If the Drug Cartel catches you crossing without their “permission”, you’re subject to beheading.  It’s not a casual thing to cross the border. If there was no demand for illegal workers in the United States, there would be no incentive for them to cross.  They don’t usually cross as individuals.  They need a structure to get across safely.  They need guides and rides.  They need a way to get past the agents on the border and the checkpoints on the highway.  They might be able to walk alone in the woods, but they can’t just walk down the highway to the city or they will get picked up. I walked and thought my way to the southern boundary of the preserve then zig-zagged my way back north, making sure I walked every trail on the way.  Half the way back I met a man walking alone the other direction on the trail.  We both stopped.  He asked if I was there to help.  I said no.  He asked if I knew which way McAllen was.  I pointed.  He said “how far”.  I said “10 or 15 miles.”  He said “How far in minutes?” ”Walking?” “Yes” “Maybe 6 hours” He looked forlorn.  He asked again if I would help.  Again, I said “no”.  There were Border Patrol agents looking for him.  I didn’t want them looking for me as well. We continued to talk.  I asked how he got across the border; did he come with a group?  He said he came with a group, but they went very fast and he got separated.  The helicopter I’d seen earlier must have broken up the group.  He said he was trying to get back to work.  He has worked in the U.S. for the last 15 years.  He went home to see his family, but now he needed to get back to work. We talked for twenty minutes.  I let him use my cellphone to try to find someone who could help.  He couldn’t.  I gave him my water.  I feel for his plight, but I didn’t drive him to McAllen. He wanted to know if it was like this, a forest trail, all the way to McAllen. “No.” I told him.  “This is a small preserve.  It is all open road and city from here to McAllen.” Ultimately, he decided to walk south.  He said “I guess I’ll go back.  Maybe I can try again another time”  I think that meant he had to try to get more money to pay for another crossing and hope for a successful one the next time. I respect the Border Patrol agents for doing their jobs.  I want them to be safe.  I also sympathize with people desperate to work and support their families.  I don’t think our immigration policies are quite right.  I don’t know what needs to happen, but it doesn’t make sense to create a demand, then arrest people when they try to satisfy it. I certainly don’t feel good about not helping that guy who just wanted to get back to work.