We said farewell to Hilton Head yesterday, and not a moment too soon, because my heart broke to learn that a sperm whale washed ashore on the beach in front of our condo. That only happens when they are sick. It’s a part of life, as I’ve been reminded, but would be hard to watch.
Enjoy this beautiful plant,Large-flowered Orlaya, instead of anything sad.
We didn’t drive far before our first, more cheerful, stop. I couldn’t miss a visit to the Pinckney Island rookery in spring! It did not disappoint!
Rookery from a distance.
Of course, there were many songbirds, grackles, and such, but one huge highlight was seeing baby Great Egrets in their nests being tended by their beautiful parents.
So fuzzy.
It was great fun to enjoy the bird cacophony and chat with other birders about what we were seeing.
I hope those give you an idea of the crowds.
Many other herons were there, but all the Little Blues insisted on landing deep inside trees. Tricolored ones were much more sociable.
Anhinga and Tricolored Heron
We were delighted when a beautiful Tricolored Heron landed right next to me and proceeded to be endearing for a long time. It even did a butt-wiggle dance. Oh, the cuteness. You’ll just have to suffer through more photos.
Watching this guy was so much fun.
The heron was right next to three young alligators. They mutually ignored each other.
Contented reptiles.
I had such a great visit! Between birds I saw and birds I heard, there were 48 species. Here are other highlights.
White IbisMourning DoveAnhingaCommon Gallinules They are loudGreat Egret coming in for a landingFemale GrackleWell disguised Tricolored HetonEastern Bluebird Hidden Little Blue HeronAnother GallinuleGrackleRed-winged Blackbird on a cattail.
The staff at the preserve are doing a project to get rid of invasive Chinese tallow trees and thin the understory to prevent devastating fires. They’ve cut down many trees in the first phase. It isn’t pretty but is understandable. I saw funding came from the recent infrastructure bill passed by Congress. I hope the funding isn’t withdrawn mid-project like so many are.
Much larger gator not bothered by pruningExample of thinning
We next drove to the greater High Point, North Carolina area to visit our family members. (Some were unavailable, sadly). The roads were not in great shape, and we followed rain much of the way, but we made it. It was worth it to see Donita and Libba, who couldn’t join me on this trip to Hilton Head.
I wish we lived closer.
We had dinner at a very nice restaurant, though it was hard to talk due to people screaming while they ate. Three of us were hard of hearing. But we persevered and laughed a lot. Lee and I also had fun.
We are both squinty. Most delicious adult beverage I ever had. That’s caramel salt on the rim.
This morning I managed to get a 20-minute walk in the neighborhood of our hotel. I found 31 birds and some interesting plants. Let’s see where we go next!
Peach-colored Fly Agaric – Amanita persicinaLyreleaf sage – Salvia lyrataOrlaya grandiflora notnativeMock Strawberry, not sure which one Japanese honeysuckle Ligustrum
People sometimes look at me like I have two heads when I tell them I go to places far away from the ranch all by myself for weeks at a time. Plus, my spouse if fine with it. Why, why why?
And why put this colorful ginger (I think) flower here? It’s pretty.
Guilty as charged.
A quick answer is that we are both hermits (hence the blog title) and enjoy time alone. That’s true, but not really why I do it. One of my traits is that I tend to take the whole “Pisces” thing to many levels (I find some of the personality aspects of astrology helpful, but no, I don’t base my decisions on it). Most aspects of my personality have two distinct and often contradictory aspects. For example, I enjoy dressing in a gender-neutral fashion, but I have those long fancy fingernails and slap flowers on most of my shirts.
That goes along with how I always come out borderline on tests of introversion versus extroversion. I’m one way sometimes, and the other when the situation changes. And I crave alone time but have never lived alone. Ever. People I’ve broken up with tend to hang out with me until someone new arrives. And when I had two houses for a few years, because I was still working in Austin, I had my friend Anita in the Austin houses.
It’s the Austin house (Bobcat Lair) showing lovely dark rain clouds. Ah.
My point is that I found it odd that I insisted on having a companion wherever I lived. Was I incapable of living alone? I tested that by traveling to these condos alone. (Note that I’m not camping in the wilderness; I still want to feel safe.) And what I’ve found is that I have a hard time coming up with a daily routine without someone else to build the routine around. My first few trips it felt very strange deciding for myself what to do, where to go, what to eat, how to entertain myself, without having to negotiate it with someone else. I was uneasy making decisions with no input.
I decided all by myself to pick up thistle seeds and watch them blow around, to make more thistles.
This week I’ve realized that I’m totally comfortable alone. I don’t need a routine, because one evolves naturally. I get up, dress, make coffee, write in my journal…etc. and it becomes a routine. And the silence is glorious. If there are sounds, they’re my choice. Now that I know I can do it, maybe I don’t need to be alone for parts of my travel so much. Still, Lee hates to be away from home for long, so this might continue.
I’m sure he’s not as fascinated by pelicans as I am.
With that musing out of the way, I’ll hit the highlights of my solo day in Hilton Head yesterday. I’m making the most out of having no car by exploring all the nooks and crannies I can walk to. There were no raptor sightings, but I did get startled by unexpectedly encountering a Great Blue Heron in a little pond. The herons here are much more accustomed to people than the ones at home, who fly off if they detect me anywhere near them.
Howdy!
Otherwise, I did another walk on the Prayer Trail, with so many pretty warblers, Painted Buntings, and Great Crested Flycatchers. I even came across a new life bird, the Wood Thrush, who looks a lot like a Hermit Thrush but sounds different.
Tree with many burlsI can’t get over how tall the ancient trees are.This is a fungus that grows on pines. Dyer’s Polypore (Phaeolus schweinitzii)Only the Tufted Titmice felt like posing today – ooh, blurryTitmouse collecting nest materialsIt’s hard work
I then found a trail in the woods next to the Prayer Trail. It had signs on either end admonishing folks not to ride their motorbikes on it. As far as I was concerned, that meant it was perfectly fine to walk the trail. Nothing said, “no trespassing.” So, I went on it.
Warning sign
What fun that was! This was a much less cleared trail through similar virgin woods (well, it IS the same woods) to the other one. I saw many lizards and skinks (not skunks, as autocorrect changed my Facebook caption to), and some gorgeous trees. I felt like an explorer.
Woodsy!
Later in the day, after a delicious veggie flatbread at the bar, I walked down the beach again to see what shore birds were around. I was delighted to find some Royal Terns among the gulls. They are beautiful in flight, but I find them quite comical on the ground. Their crowns look like old man hats, and the way they were walking around chatting with each other just made me smile.
So cute.GosspingLoudly gossipingI’m not listening (ring-billed gull)
Later I saw some doing mating flights, which was fun to watch, as well as very loud.
Making their approach.
Otherwise, I spent much of the walk dodging dozens of Cannonball Jellies that had washed up. I was glad not to be barefoot, as there were also many sharp-looking pieces of crabs strewn around. I guess the birds only like the middles of crabs.
When I came home, I gleefully read my book and watched whatever television show I cared to watch (this time it was Matlock). I have no doubt that by the time Lee gets here, I’ll be happy to have a companion to plan around, however.
Horses are so educational. Today I spent much of my day with mine, and I greatly enjoyed working with their moods and personalities. Our canine and equine companions each are unique, and reminding ourselves of that helps humans like me feel like a part of something larger than just our contentious society.
So, how did today go? I resolved to get all the horses groomed (and bur free) and put Apache’s boots on to help his feet while the green grass is here. I started by trying to get Apache, only oops, the gate blew open and the other horses got out. Apache just gave me his annoyed look and walked off. I got Drew and Mabel in with food, and Dusty let me halter him. So I doctored his sore tail and made him pretty. He’d rather hang out with humans than escape.
Not bad for an old man.
Since Mabel was in a pen, I haltered her and worked on her coat and burs. She enjoys being rubbed, and kept touching my hand as I brushed her. She was great as I got a few burs out of her tail, but let me know she wasn’t fond of the work I had to do to get the knotted mess from the last rainstorm out of her mane.
You see, my very tall very dark gal loves to get herself even darker by rolling in mud. I think she’s of the opinion that a mud crust is a fashion accessory. Her favorite accessory, though, are mud balls in her mane. They harden into pottery balls, and are matched by mud-covered burrs. It’s quite a sight. And not easy to remove.
No photo, so here is a not-very-artistic rendering of her mane.
I’m glad a bought a gel detangler, because I can rub it in, which is less disturbing to her delicate Thoroughbred nature while I remove burs. I got everything out but the big clay ball and three burs (see excellent illustration) and then I was stuck. The mane had festively rolled round and round the muddy objects. I tried wetting the clay, banding on it, and squishing it. Nope. It was permanent. So I cut it out. Mabel only lost length on a few mane hairs, even though I also had to remove a big matt. I figure she doesn’t have much of a mane anyway, and no one looks at her but me and occasionally Tarrin.
Her mane before the mud ball.
On that note I went to lunch. I needed a break.
I flew away, like these Cedar Waxwings in our tree.
When I got back from exhilarating lunch discussion (and two yummy tacos), it was time to hunt down Drew and Apache. I fed everyone, and got them all lined up except Apache. His snit from yesterday continued and all I could do was get him to take his medicine in the pasture. He was an angry horse man, I guess.
Nope. Not coming in.
However, I did manage to halter Drew over his crown of burs, and settled him in front of a hay bag. Kathleen had agreed to help me out as I tried to get the burs I’d been working on for weeks off him.
He looks deformed, but it looked kind of like this.
Previously, Droodles would last about ten minutes before the head tossing, snapping, and kicking indicated he was done, so I never got to his forehead. However, the two-human approach worked way better. Kathleen crooned at him and did facial massage on him while I removed burs. He was quite calm and, dare I say, relaxed. All in all it went quickly, with no head tossing or stomping (other than at flies).
No burs!
I wish I had a helper more often. I might have done better with Drew. But I’m sure grateful for help from someone who’s studying anatomy and knows where to massage. Maybe he’s feeling a little better now.
Of course he smeared food all over himself for photos.
We took a nice walk together and ended this success on a high note.
He even still has some forelock hair!
So, three out of four horses were accounted for. Kathleen and I went and sat by the pool a while and relaxed. Meanwhile, I saw Apache go into the pens, probably for water and a nap. I seized the moment and headed back over.
My favorite picture from last week. Worth a repeat. All burs are hidden in Drew and Mabel.
The good news is that his snit from yesterday seemed over. He stood still to be haltered and went out with no issues. He was patient as I cleaned his feet and stood like a gentleman while I struggled to put his boots on. They are challenging. No photos because I was too busy grunting.
Then, he walked over to the exercise area and did a lively walk, trot, and canter sequence on the longe line. I didn’t even have a stick to encourage him. That means he feels good AND I was only a day late with his boots.
It was nice to see the normal Apache back. We just have to figure out that gate obstacle!
Maybe. I figure if I keep acting up I won’t have to canter under saddle again.
Whew. Each horse had its own moods and preferences today. With a little help, I accomplished my missions and didn’t get stressed.
PS: Kathleen and I both removed burs from Fiona. She still has some, though.
It’s funny. The day we left for the weekend’s camping expedition, Lee and I were annoyed at everything the other did, even though nothing was really wrong. It made the day harder on us both.
We were like two vultures in a standoff
Today, though, all sorts of challenges and opportunities to get angry presented themselves, and neither of us took the bait. As each little (or big) issue arose, we just dealt with it and kept going. I prefer days like today! Duh.
We’re like two old trees communicating through our shared root systems.
Here are just a couple of examples. First, after getting Seneca the motorhome ready quickly and efficiently, we drove off, waving at the neighbors and promising to stay in touch. We did, because just as Lee spotted it in his mirror, we got a text saying one of our storage doors was open. I got out, ensured that nothing was missing, and off we went. No one blamed the other one for the mistake. Why should we?
That’s right, Suna. Take it from a sparrow that roams the Savanna.
Later a bigger boo-boo happened. We had pulled Seneca up to gas pumps so we could refuel the Gladiator, which went ok. But as we pulled out, the corner of the big vehicle hit one of those concrete posts that guard gas pumps. It turns out there is a blind spot we didn’t know about.
Gas stations are scary. Photo from Pexels.
What good would it have done to get upset? We just assessed the damage, made impromptu repairs, and kept going.
Sigh, as it turns out, the accident that only seemed to have dinged the water heater cover must have caused a short, because there are power issues. We may miss our next trip, but hey, we made it over two years before any major oopsie!
I wish my reward for this achievement could be this belt buckle I saw in Boot Barn. Someone has a sense of humor.
Here’s what today reminded me. You reflect the treatment you receive. Friday, Lee shouted at me because I wasn’t where he expected me to be, I shouted back, and then I was on edge, leading to further misunderstandings. I reflected what he directed at me.
I’m sure this deep thought is not original, just like this free photo.
Today, on the other hand, we each took unexpected issues in stride, with no blaming or justification. And we enjoyed a pleasant trip home. We reflected understanding and forgiveness. That worked.
Goodbye lake (and last photo of pristine Seneca).
I did encounter more great birds before we left Lake Brownwood. I listened to a Greater Roadrunner calling for at least an hour, punctuated by Wild Turkey calls. A Black-and-white Warbler plus a Pyrrhuloxia also dropped by.
I’m not a Pyrrhuloxia but I also dropped by.
Still, I’m glad to be back with my familiar bird buddies, my chickens, and the horses, each of whom collected a few burs to welcome me home. Dusty was particularly glad to see me and almost beat Mabel in the race to say hi. He even cantered! It turned out he needed me. His winter coat needs help getting off, so I rubbed significant quantities of fuzz off him while he ate.
Glad to be rid of that hair.
I’ll be back on him and fuzzy/sweaty Apache tomorrow!
You may have heard that Goldie left this world today, about five months after her osteosarcoma ordeal began. The good news is that she didn’t really slow down until this week, and only got really bad today, not eating, having trouble standing, etc.
The three of us here at the ranch worked together to give Goldie a good last day. after many calls, the guys found a vet who would come here so she didn’t have to be hauled in and out of cars. I sat with her for the last hour before the vet arrived, with her head on my lap or in my arms. It was very peaceful and loving.
It was important to me that she have peace. I have had too many traumatic dog passings. I don’t want more if it can be helped. We knew this was coming, so we could prepare.
Describing what a special dog Goldie was is difficult. People say all Great Danes are sweet dogs. That may be so, but this one felt like a friend, a confidant, and a guardian all rolled into one.
She was a Mighty Huntress of skunks and armadillos, she was a goofy dinosaur head when she got excited, her tail was a danger to men of a certain height, and she looked at you with those golden eyes, so full of love…
Goldie through the years
The few years we had with Goldie weren’t enough. But that’s what she had for us. We will treasure our memories.
Goldie’s memorial bonfire, next to her very deep grave. Digging big holes is a good way to process grief.
I’m still feeling old and irrelevant, just like my cousin J. And I’m incredibly sad to be watching my sweet Great Dane, Goldie, swiftly declining. Cancer is just awful. It makes me hesitant to have another giant dog.
Just sunning herself.
And cancer is why I can’t tell you what my mother was doing at my age (pushing 67). She’d been dead four years, thanks to her nicotine addiction. I wish she’d had a less addictive personality. I know she loved us.
I was born, born in the 50s. I already look concerned.
When Dad was 66 I think he was at his happiest. If my memory is correct, he’d met my stepmother and was having fun hanging with friends, traveling, and working in his beloved flower gardens. What a contrast. Dad was great taking care of Mom. He deserved a time to have fun. (He married Flo, a woman just like quirky Mom only without addictions, so he had challenges later!) I loved my dad so much. What a great, flawed, very human human being he was.
It’s cold, very cold.
Things sure are different for me. My parents grew more prosperous and felt safer as they aged. Boomers like me had no idea what they’d be in for as they grew older. This is not the future I’d envisioned.
Harvey says he’s hanging in there.
Thanks to everyone who’s been reaching out. Knowing I have kind people in my life is a source of comfort.
It was the best day in a long time for bird watching. Between my observations and the Merlin Bird ID, 51 species were found on our property. That’s pretty exciting for me. But more exciting was how entertained I was by all that I saw. Yes, I’m easily entertained. You knew that.
I swear this little White-crowned Sparrow looks like an egg with a tiny head on it.
I saw a beautiful Harrier swooping over the fields late this afternoon when working with Apache the Wonder Steed. We both watched.
Then right at sunset, while I was watching and listening to the sparrows (Harris’s, White-throated, Chipping, Song, and White-crowned) as they rustled through the leaves looking for bird stuff, something flew by. It was the Great Horned Owl heading to a tree. Thirty seconds later, it hit the ground. I guess it got a mouse. Spectacular.
I didn’t like that. What if the owl was after us cute songbirds? Circle of Life, yeah yeah.
That really helped me get through a hard day. It’s now six years since I heard from my son. He was a great kid. I hope he’s enjoying life. I think he is, and that’s good. I just miss this little charmer.
33 years and 8 months ago, 4 generations.
As the two older generations in that photo are no longer here to talk to, I’m the older generation now. My cousin Jan and I have been talking about that, since her dad, a good friend of my dad’s, passed a way a couple of days ago. We’re the elders. That feels so strange.
Three generations, me, Mom, and Aunt Belle, my grandmother’s twin. I was a senior in high school.
I hope I can stay in contact with the generation after me. Maybe someday my son, but if not, it’s his decision and I respect it. And I’m fine. I just allow myself one day a year to mourn the loss that I really don’t understand. Grief is always lurking.
My parents and me in 1958. I knew they loved me, even if none of us were perfect. Dad was 27. Mom was 36.
Once again, I ask you to stick close to your loved ones, your friends who support you, and your community. We need each other.
I’ve probably mentioned it before, but I love cooking traditional Southern US food at New Year’s. Today I cooked black-eyed peas, rice, collard/mustard greens, cornbread, and a pork loin (because Lee needs his meat).
Not this year’s meal. I forgot to take pictures.
I had my oldest friends and my family over for the meal, and it was just wonderful. I’ve missed our meals since I’ve been so depressed. We have vowed to do better from now on.
Maybe I’ll invite a few newer friends, too. It’s just so overwhelming with all the dogs and the mess around the house from our unpacking and such. Perhaps a potluck?
It was a good day of starting new things, like a new journal, a new temperature blanket (photos tomorrow), and new energy. I’m not sure where it came from. Maybe it’s Connie the turkey, or Apache’s new zippy mode.
I hope you had some good experiences today. Every good day is a treasure.
That’s humor directed at my son, who doesn’t read his mother’s Boomer ramblings, so he won’t laugh. Apparently, Sir Paul’s ode to the season is poked fun of by people in his age group. Good. We can all use a laugh that won’t harm the target of the humor.
Our sweet dog sitter sent us messages from the dogs this morning!
I can see why I don’t blog as much lately. I’m weirder than usual. The good news is that weird or just a bit kooky, I enjoyed spending time with my son and his partner for the last two days. They are funny, smart, and interesting people to hang out with.
No photos of them, so here’s the fiery sunset from yesterday.
Yesterday I went on a very long (for me) hike that got delayed by all my bird watching. It was beautiful to walk in woods between two canyons, then climb to the top of a hill to find a geological area I’d never seen before, karst, but with desert plants.
Steps leading to blessed bathroom. It was up more stairs. Another highlight was this bathroom next to primitive camping. It made the hike better.
One plant there was a large group of, but I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sure if it was covered with fruit or galls. I tentatively have it down as sandpaper oak, which grows in the Chihuahuan Desert, of which I was at the northernmost edge.
Mystery tree/bush
Another plant looked like a fern, but was growing out of dry limestone. When I got home, I found out it’s Hybrid Cloakfern (Astrolepis integerrima), a fascinating and rare plant that has all the genetic material of two plants of which it is a hybrid. It only grows on rocky hillsides and rock clefts, which is where I found it.
Cloakfern
The second half of my hike was spent power walking back to the car, because I’d somehow messed up my son’s reservation for the campsite across from us (no parking spaces were close). By the time we got to the park office we found out I hadn’t messed up; the system only lets you book same-day camping in person. I felt less foolish then.
Bee hive!CanyonHeading upKarst and rocksBeautiful lichenStrawberry cactusBeautiful vistasThe only photo I took as I rushed down to the parking area.
I took our guests to the bird blinds, then we built a Yule fire and enjoyed the perfect weather. That was so pleasant.
Fire just started
This morning we went back to the bird blinds, which were restocked with food. It pleased me to share my hobby with them.
They showed up!
We then went on the Overlook Trail, which has steep parts. I hadn’t wanted to tackle that alone, in case I slipped. There were desert plants on this trail, once we got above a certain height, but here it was mostly sotol. The vistas of their stems with red oaks and junipers below were striking. At the highest point we reached we could see our RV way below us.
You can see the camping areaThere’s our site, zoomed in.
After a break, we trooped back out and wandered towards the river. We took a different path than I’d taken before, and were rewarded by many pecans, river views, and an osprey in a tree.
Oxbow lakeThe rest of the photos are South Llano RiverRiver walking
By that time we were hungry, so I made ham with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies. It was adequate for what I can prepare in the RV. It felt festive eating outside with my flowers on the table and “real” dishes and flatware.
Happy petunias
Just being with my little immediate family for Christmas in nature made for a fantastic holiday. I hope you got some pleasure out of whatever you celebrated today or will celebrate this week!
Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.
It may be unsurprising for people to choose their father in responding to this prompt. Many people are positively influenced by their fathers, after all, and I’m privileged to be one of them.
Me and Dad in around 1985.
Now, I talk about my dad, Edwin Prince Kendall, often in the blog, both in positive and negative ways. As we were reflecting on our parents and how we would never give up on them, even when things get tough, my young friend Ellie and I agreed that our parents sacrificed a lot to help us have a good life.
Easter in about 1965.
If I had parents longer, I’d love to have helped them in return. But Dad only needed computer help and a listening ear, which I gladly lent him.
I want to focus on one positive influence dad had on me (no, not my morals, ethics, and political leanings, though he sure contributed to them). What I remember is how he got through emotionally painful times. I’m trying to use his example to help myself.
My mother died 40 years ago this week at age 62. She was sick for many years prior to that, as she dealt with various conditions exacerbated by her extreme depression and anxiety. Then repeated bouts of lung cancer required many hospitalizations and treatments. During this time, Dad was the sole provider for the family, and managed to contribute to my college expenses on top of all that (I worked and had a Merit Scholarship to help).
Mom, Maury, and our “sister,” Pumpkin in the late 1970s.
I know how stressful it was for him to watch Mom fade, especially as she could never stop smoking. Dad also traveled for work usually more than half the week, so my brother stayed at home during college so he could help with mom. That was a big sacrifice, but what people do for those they love. I truly appreciate it.
Dad always had his sense of humor, though, and strove to keep life “normal” as long as he could. I learned from this. Even in hard times, you can enjoy what’s still good.
Oddly, though, I think how he handled the stress was the best example. He’d get frustrated at Mom or me or my brother, for sure. And he had more than a few drinks. But mostly, he’d go outside and garden or build something. He used physical activity to help with stress, creating beauty everywhere. That’s a great example to follow.
Dad liked flowers as much as I do. Plus he had a green thumb.
I remember the last thing he built in our last house with Mom was a gazebo by our pool. I think she only got to sit in it a few times, but she watched him build it right outside her bedroom window and knew he loved her. Dad’s love didn’t waver when things got tough. That’s how I want to be.
My playhouse and treehouse he built when we were young.
Yep. Dad was a good guy and a good example in so many ways.