goodbye, sweet summer

At the risk of sounding prematurely nostalgic, 
I want to share a favorite view along my bike route. 

I love the contrast of the sharp stones with the lush lowland pasture beyond. Today, the cloud line seemed a perfect juxtaposition to the gray stone wall. 
This is huge part of why I moved here: long horizontal views of expansive green open spaces--all just a short bike ride away.

I'll miss these stunning sunny days and brilliant green grasses. Yes, it's nice to have a break from the heat, but for me, summer is the sweetest season.

Telltale poops

This morning, I noticed a plethora of persimmon seeds in some deer droppings along the road and realized there must be a persimmon tree in the area. So today's bike mission was to find it.


My horse loves persimmons, and I was eager to bring some back in my bike pouch for him.


I rode around off-trail, checking every small-leafed tree and at last, found one full of round, purple fruit. And then I started seeing them everywhere––including one growing right by the driveway I've ridden down every day for months.


It's amazing what you can find when you set out with intentional observation--and what you miss every day when you think you know your surroundings.

Gallivanting gazelles

I pass this herd of gazelles everyday while riding my bike, but I'm rarely close enough to get decent footage.

The boys seem to enjoy playing chase games while the ladies wander around flicking their tails and gossiping about who has the biggest horns.

highway fatality

The movement caught my eye as I rode past: one butterfly had been hit––smashed to the asphalt, but still alive––as the other fluttered around trying to help.

When I got close with the camera, the healthy one moved a few feet away, watching while I pulled the stuck one off the pavement. Unfortunately, that action separated its abdomen and it died within seconds as I lay it in the grass.

As often happens, despite my good intentions, things do not always turn out well. 

I hope her mate realized I was trying to help. I suspect butterfly karma may be a powerful thing.

Busy busy

Just a quick scene from this morning's bike ride. It's a lazy Sunday for me, but the bees are always busy.

Texas skyscrapers

In just a few months, these yucca stalks along the trail 

have grown to nearly 20 feet tall. They're quite spectacular.  

Here's a perspective shot of the entire plant compared to my bike. 

Morning vision

On my bike ride this morning, I was admiring the stone wall in front of an old farm house when I spotted this vision in gold.   

The pony seemed curious about me and the bike, but would not come over. He did toss his head defiantly a few times; I got the feeling he was challenging me to a race.

Here's a quick glimpse of when I first saw him, tail flowing in the breeze:

Ugly and misunderstood

The following piece by David Bottoms gave me a new perspective and appreciation for vultures.


Under the Vulture-Tree
We've all seen them circling pastures,
looked up from the mouth of a barn, a pine clearing,
the fences of our backyards, and stood
amazed by the one slow wing beat,
the endless dihedral drift.

But I had never seen so many, so close, hundreds,
every limb of the dead oak feathered black,
I cut the engine, let the river grab the jon boat
and pull it toward the tree. The black leaves shone,
the pink fruit blossomed red, ugly as a human heart.

Then, as I passed under their dream,
I saw for the first time its soft countenance, the raw fleshy jowls
wrinkled and generous, like the faces of the very old
who have grown to empathize with everything.

I drifted away from them, slow,
on the pull of the river,
reluctant, looking back at their roost,
calling them what I'd never called them, what they are:

those dwarfed transfiguring angels
who flock to the side of the poisoned fox, the mud turtle
crushed on the shoulder of the road,
who pray over the leaf-graves of the anonymous lost,
with mercy enough to consume us all and give us wings.