Reaching the Summit

A few more pictures from the last leg of our winding ascent through the Rocky Mountains.


This is the beautiful view from Rainbow Curve, where I spotted the Clark's Nutcracker of my previous post. In fact, at the top of the largest clump of scrubby-looking trees in the lower center of the picture is where the nutcracker was perched. (If you look at this much larger version of the image, you can barely see the little blog of light gray and black that is the nutcracker.) Not quite at "eye-level" as I had remembered, but still an excellent vantage point from which to bird.

Running crazily in and out of the rocks and boulders in the foreground were several small chipmunk-looking critters, which according to this authoritative site were actually Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels.


These spastic little creatures were constantly on the go and not at all afraid of people, to the delight and enjoyment of a number of kids and other sightseers who seemed more interested in their antics than in the beautiful panorama spread out before us.

Moving farther up the slopes, we quickly move beyond the tree line and into more and more patches of still-lingering snow. And enjoying the thin air and cool summer temperatures were a small family of the most magnificent animals we had yet encountered in the park: North American Elk.




Unfortunately, it was just about the time we spotted the elk that the altitude sickness hit me square in the head (with a corresponding kick to the stomach). We stopped off at the Alpine Visitors Center for the kids to realize their lifelong dreams of touching real snow, and for me to get a little fresh air to clear the cobwebs. But as the headache and nausea increased and a wave of dizziness started to take hold, a resident park ranger / E.M.P. sent us scurrying back off the mountaintop with scare tactics worthy of a middle school principal. The rest of the trip was, quite literally, downhill from there.

Birding without Birds

One morning earlier this month, I headed over to Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary for a couple of hours, hoping to have a nice quiet morning of birding. Edith L. Moore is a nice little sanctuary run by the Houston Audubon Society, surrounded by neighborhoods and just minutes from one of the busiest freeways in Houston and several key business, medical and shopping centers.


Yet once you head up the gravel drive and start wandering through this lush wooded sanctuary, you would swear you were miles away from civilization. The footpaths wandering through the trees and along the creek are perfect for losing yourself in a world of nature far away from the rush and problems of everyday life, and even on the worst of days you can normally find a dozen or more species of birds here. Is it any wonder that I find some excuse to sneak over there at least once every month or so?


But for the first time in all my visits to Edith L. Moore, I was shocked to find the place almost completely barren of birdlife! Sure, the temperature and humidity were battling it out to see which could reach triple digits first. And yes, there were dozens of kids running pell-mell through the park, doing their best to release nine months of pent up energy in one massive celebration of the beginning of summer. But to find only eight species of birds in two whole hours? Oh, the inhumanity of it all!


Actually, I have to admit that it was quite an enjoyable morning. Once I'd seen and logged the handful of birds to be found that morning (chickadees, cardinals, mockingbirds, one far-off woodpecker and a couple others), I looked down for a change and realized why they named it the Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary rather than simply a bird sanctuary.


I found wild rabbits munching in one clearing, and two more scurrying from my path near one heavy thicket. There were moss-covered turtles, big bulgy bullfrogs and slithering water snakes in and around the pond. There were squirrels darting through the undergrowth and leaping from branch to branch overhead, and lizards scurrying through the leaves that covered the ground. There were spiders lying in wait in various nooks and crannies, bends in branches, bundles of leaves, and one giant monstrosity hanging right at my eye level with his massive web stretched tightly across the path. There were butterflies and moths, dragonflies and damselflies, crickets and grasshoppers, and more crawlies and winged bugs than I could possibly name.


Oh, and the cutest raccoon I've ever seen, warily making his way down this tall tree trunk and disappearing near the water's edge below.

To be honest, this was the best non-bird birding trip I've ever had!

Willie's Back!

After dropping the kids off for school this morning, I was surprised to see Willie perched up on his fence rail, watching the traffic go by. We hadn't seen Willie in well over a month, and I figured he had moved on to a better, buggier locale.


You see, Willie is a red-headed woodpecker that we started watching early this summer. I hadn't seen one up close in years, so when I first saw him perched on a white fence rail across the street from the kids' summer camp, I was ecstatic. The next time I spotted him, I was quick to show off my discovery to the kids. "Oh, that's just Willie," was the lackadaisical reply I got.


Apparently, Willie had been showing up around the place for a couple of weeks, and all the camp kids had seen him so regularly that the excitement had long since worn off.


Apparently, the same could not be said for Willie, who this morning seemed to inspect me rather curiously before he left the fence and headed back to the trees in search of breakfast.


I remember that, upon learning the redhead's name, I asked the seemingly logical question, "Why didn't y'all name him 'Woody'?" Cat's immediate response was one of those dumbfounded, "Are you an idiot?" looks that only daughters can properly pull off, followed by a multi-syllabic, "Daa-a-a-aaad! Woody is a silly old cartoon. Willie is real!"


I'm not sure where Willie spent the second half of his summer, but it's good to see that he's still alive and well. And real.

A Midsummer's Afternoon

A quick post before heading out early for Parent Orientation at the kids' school. Here are a few more pictures from last weekend's coyote hunt.


This ruddy fellow looks so much like a dried chili pepper that it makes my lips burn to look at him. I don't know if he's some sort of Amberwing or something else entirely.


This little butterfly was much more shy than the fritillary I posted before. He only sat still long enough for me to get off the one shot before taking wing again and fluttering out of range.


I loved the little green nose and big green lips on this one. Looks almost like something straight out of a Pixar animation.

Unfortunately, I don't know enough about dragonflies or butterflies to even venture a guess as to what kind any of these are. They shore were purty, tho!

Wile E. Coyote

(With apologies to ol' Carnivorous vulgaris of Loony Tunes fame.)

We were driving back home from lunch last Sunday when we spotted what we first thought to be a stray dog running along beside the road up ahead. As we got closer I slowed, half expecting it to dart across the road in front of us.

When it did turn, though, we got a big surprise. This was not just a stray dog, but a coyote. It took one look at our car and then dashed across the road and into the field beyond. He quickly hid in the knee high grass, with only his head visible as he cautiously watched us slowly pass by.

As soon as we were past, I sped back up and hurried the half mile or so back to the house. While WW and the kids headed inside to clean up and start the afternoon activities, I grabbed my camera and rushed back to the edge of the brush where we last saw him. Unfortunately, other than a few tracks in the mud alongside the bayou, I was unable to find any sign of that wily coyote. He was long gone, likely headed "upstream" in search of better hunting grounds.

Of course, I already had my camera out and had put on a pair of old tennis shoes, so I didn't let the chance go to waste. I got a few decent shots of the only wildlife available: the birds and the bees (plus a butterfly or two).

This Northern Mockingbird was quite interested in my search, but stayed just out of sight of my lens for most of the excursion. We tend to see mockingbirds pretty much year round here along the gulf coast (they are our state bird, you know). But I have yet to get a decent picture of one in flight, showing off that distinctive white wing stripe.


I was surprised at how many pollinators were out and about in the heat of a midsummer Texas afternoon. I found quite a few carpenter bees, among other insects, hovering happily around the flowers that were soaking up the results of our recent rainfalls.

Carpenter bees (Xylocopa virginica, I believe):




I also got close enough to get a few decent shots of this handsome fellow, a Gulf Fritillary.


Although the residential areas around our neighborhood are growing like weeds, there are still quite a few sections of natural growth nearby where we can occasionally spot deer, raccoons, skunks and armadillos — or more often just the tracks and traces (or scents) of them. And we've had a late night visiting possum or two in the back yard. But that coyote was a first for us, and it was an even bigger surprise seeing him on the prowl in broad daylight. I hadn't seen a wild coyote since I was working summers and weekends on the farm back in high school and college. It was exciting to see, and to point it out to the kids, even if I didn't get to capture it on "film."