It will be a privilege to be alive in ten years. Most of my life I fully expected to be healthy and hearty at 77 years of age, like many of my friends are now.
I hope to enjoy scenery like this for many years.
I expected to be in my home, enjoying my pets and nature, traveling at least a bit to see new sights or visit friends. That’s the same as now.
Simple pleasures are all I desire.
As an example, we drove today to a place near Medina, Texas, to see the cabin Lee’s friend Matt has been working on for many years. It was fun. I got to hear a new kind of vireo and a Golden-Cheeked Warbler, found only here this time of year. What a privilege to be free to do this.
Cabin view
I’m concerned, though, that in a decade I won’t have a source of income or health care, though I’ve paid into Social Security and Medicare my whole working life. If that’s the case, things may look very different in ten years. Who knows? Things could also be better, too.
They have an old horse here.
Let’s hope we all still get to enjoy our friends and family a decade from now. In the meantime, treasure what you have. That’s my plan.
That’s the truth! It’s a lesson that’s been kicking at me for the past six months or so. I really didn’t want to stop working. I really didn’t want to give up the fun I always had buying clothing, shoes, and decorations for my space. I didn’t want to give up on people who’d been important to me in the past or ideals I felt it important to uphold at great cost.
I don’t think I have to always have a bur-free donkey, but Fiona sure looks better. And she is finally shedding!
But I’ve done it. I realized what I thought was right for me actually wasn’t. The transition can be painful. I’ve had a pretty crappy few months, though I’ve tried to share the good stuff here. But I think I’m okay now.
When worst comes to worst, I can just share flowers. Silverleaf nightshade Solanum elaeagnifolium
I’m back to coping with an amount of stress I can handle for the most part, which is the only way to get through the huge transition our society is going through with dignity and grace. I’m grateful for friends and mentors who’ve helped out. We all need community support. Having my online friends, my lunch buddies, and my husband and son remind me of what’s good and I hope I give that back.
I got to hang out at our bird sanctuary today with fellow Master Naturalists. That was so good for my soul.
Today I realized I’m not the only one who struggles with transition and change. My poor Apache horse really likes a predictable life. Surprises like the farrier or a horse show aren’t his favorites.
Mabel disliked the hoof surprise a lot, too. She wouldn’t go into a pen to eat today. That pleased the donkey.
Today was riding day, so Apache got all groomed and pretty and did fine on his groundwork, though he still dislikes jumping what he considers a “high” jump.
Do these shoes make me look awkward?
He was displeased at having to go to the new location of the round pen to do the riding. I didn’t push him, just walked and trotted, stopped and started, and leg yielded. However, Lee had mowed some “trails” for us, so I tried Apache out on them. It was funny to see him go into his panic at the unfamiliar, doing his direction changes and left turns.
Why did you make me do this? I do t need personal growth.
Yes, I’ve finally gotten to where I find it more funny than scary, and helped him get some walking on the path done. And when I got off, he had to go back in the round pen and breathe for a while. I figure he’ll get better. He always does, just like me.
I guess the trees are scary. I couldn’t get good photos of him because he thinks he has to move when I move.
Onward and upward, trying to get through transition as smoothly as possible for both me and the animals.
When you’re an old member of the intellectual elite (I have been told that’s what I am, even though I no longer speak and write academic English), you get used to knowing at least a little about most topics speakers present at meetings. Tonight I was thrilled to hear a speaker at our monthly Master Naturalist meeting on a topic I was unfamiliar with.
Also a blimp flew over today, which is rare here.
The speaker was Thomas Ronge, “a polar marine geologist and climate scientist, working as an Expedition Project Manager and Staff Scientist for the International Ocean Discovery Program (aka IODP)” (his description on BlueSky). His agency has a new name, Scientific Ocean Drilling Coordination Office (SODCO). Apparently name changes are frequent. He told us about how he has worked to get samples of sediment from the ocean floor using really cool drilling and sampling technologies, all on an amazing science ship.
It just was so much fun to learn about how carbon dioxide is stored in ice, the causes of rising sea levels, and why the research done by his teams is so important to us regular folks. Ronge made the complex ideas easy to understand and his subtle humor was a fine touch. I couldn’t believe this was his first presentation in English (he’s from Germany).
This is the research ship whose expeditions he coordinated, the JOIDES Resolution. It just got retired. (Photo by T Ronge)
Want to learn more? The website for IODP has links to many interesting articles on what scientists learned on the ship.
That presentation was the highlight of my day, though I had to laugh at how I looked by the end of the meeting part of the evening. I got my roadrunner recertification pin for 2025 and a third place ribbon for how many hours I’ve volunteered so far this year. That’s because it’s National Volunteer Month, or something.
This is me and our treasurer, Debra, with our pins. Patsy in the middle is the membership chair, a huge job.
My friends Donna and Linda Jo were the top two active hours earners since our chapter started. I love this picture I took after they realized how long it would take them to get their next milestones!
You can do it, gals!
That’s all you get from this satisfied learner tonight.
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.
I admit it. I have read many books by Brené Brown more than once. I think people need different kinds of support at different times in their lives. When I needed to drag my self esteem out of the gutter and stop telling myself I kind things about myself, her stories and ideas were there to push me toward healing. I’m forever grateful that she writes in ways that reach me.
Just a picture to note that Cattle Egrets have arrived.
Her writing taught me I wasn’t alone and I wasn’t awful. What a gift!
Here’s a gift. My favorite wildflower, Texas Baby Blue Eyes.
I’ve mentioned before that I must have read Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, dozens of times as a child. It shaped by love of horses and all animals and set me on a path of kindness to our animal friends.
I do try to be kind.
Speaking of my animal friends, Apache and I had a hard lesson today. He is not fond at all of Tarrin’s gate obstacle. I got a good lesson in patience (though I did lose my patience once). He learned he has to trust me when I ask him to do things, and I learned I still have work to do on quietly repeating instructions and not showing my frustration.
It’s like the dung beetle. You just keep pushing until you get there. No need to get upset.
He’s such a good guy most of the time that I know Apache has his reasons for disliking the gate. We will work through it! After all, Brené Brown taught me that being imperfect is how we grow.
Today I was feeling quite fine, perhaps even groovy, while I was on my walk around Nails Creek State Park on an uncharacteristically cool April morning. I was reminded of the Simon and Garfunkel song that reminds us:
Slow down, you move too fast! You’ve got to make the morning last!
That was from “Feeling Groovy,” if you aren’t old enough to have it pop right into your head. That’s how I was, too, taking my time, feeling the sand beneath my hiking shoes, and in the groove.
Life, I love you. All is groovy!
Groovy soapberry flowers
While I was walking and walking (fast enough to keep warm but not very fast), I realized that when I walk rhythmically I can’t think about anything negative. I just feel my body moving. Maybe that’s why people like running so much?
Fancy feather
One thing I’m glad about is that I don’t need to run to get the effects of exercise. I love moving more slowly. I also think my focus on perceiving my surroundings with all my senses helps with grounding me. It’s like a walking meditation! That’s it! I’ve learned to meditate while looking for plants and listening for birds.
Steadily tracing the path.
Even if that’s not true I find the idea comforting. Hobbies can be healthy! I plan to control my meanderings and take my time exploring the wide world around me, slowly and intentionally. It may be what keeps me together through unprecedented challenges.
I spent my original groovy years surrounded by Spanish moss.
Any day out I nature is good. It did rain much of today, then got cold, but rain sounds good on the roof and I have warm clothing stashed in Seneca’s closet. However, the rain was not enough to dampen the spirits of our fellow campers.
No one died
Two, perhaps three (hard to tell) groups of incredibly enthusiastic Scouts are here, with one taking up three sites across from us. They are having FUN. So far I haven’t detected any actual scouting activities from this group, unless bellowing, screeching, and making siren sounds can earn you a merit badge. The adults coped by yelling back.
I coped by trying to leave, but it kept raining on me.
The other group was set up in the other camping area by the lake. They even had on uniforms as they blasted through empty campsites screaming instructions. One of them saw me and yelled, “Stranger Danger.” I was annoyed by then and reminded them that scouting encourages them to respect other campers.
I’m under a shelter. They’re scampering off.
They were on their way to a ceremony (I’d heard, ha ha), so by the time Lee had picked me up from standing in the rain and we drove by, they were doing a lovely ceremony with flags and saluting. Of course, THAT is when the park police went by. Such good little citizens.
I got to see a gun millipede while in the shelter in the rain.
Note that I did get a little walk in between rains and found a couple of interesting plants. I was trying out the new and improved iNat app, too. It identifies what I see immediately, so I don’t have to do it when I get back from a walk. Fewer Master Naturalist hours, but that’s fine.
Cream wild indigo Baptisia leucophaeaPrairie nymph. A wild iris! Herbertia lahueI believe Texas Blue Star, just washed out. Drummond’s onion Allium Drummondii
Meanwhile, Lee and I took a drive around the area and looked at a couple of cute small towns. When we came back, the local kids were back outside, now throwing a football. I left again, and had a pleasant, if chilly, walk on the Nails Creek Trail, featuring lake views, more fun plants, and an owl.
A better picture of Sandyland Bluebonnet My horse could handle that bridge!Chinese Tallow (invasive)Lots of Chinese TallowTwo colors of stemless spiderwort A light blue version Willow oak Quercus phellosAll my shore bird buddies Clasping Venus’s Looking Glass. A favorite. Triodanis perfoliataNodding beardtongue Penstemon laxiflorus with bonus insect.
The dilemma for me is whether I should have gone over and talked to the adults about the noise levels. I see two sides. One is that these are children who are outdoors. They don’t need to use their “inside voices” and that’s probably fun. Knowing how structured and protected the lives of kids are these days, this was probably a rare opportunity for free play with their friends, and that’s exhilarating for sure.
I’m between a rock and a hard place.
On the other hand, those of us who weren’t in their party could not enjoy our campsites when it wasn’t raining. In fact, we could only enjoy inside the RV with music or television on. I’ve been told that the training for the adults covers how to act when camping. I didn’t see a lot of buddy system or respect for the leaders.
Just a milkweed closeup.
I’m just not sure if I should have asked the park staff to talk to them or talked to them myself. I know how people react these days, so I said nothing. I honestly don’t mind kids having fun at reasonable volumes and staying in their own sites or the road. They were running all over the campground while the adults mostly sat in their chairs. I wish they’d gone on a hike or something but they’d have scared all the birds and animals.
Not me. I’m a stoic.
My fervent hope is that they all pack up and leave early to go to church. Fingers crossed.
By the way, I want to thank any readers who went to peaceful protests today. Sign creativity was high! Since 2020, I can no longer do big crowds. But I’m grateful to those of you who fought through introversion and showed up.
And hey, here’s the first row of the 2025 temperature blanket. It’s warmer!
I’m easily excited, I guess. When I see a new or unexpected plant, bird, or insect, I get a thrill in my heart. I smile in the middle of nowhere, all by myself. Yesterday was full of such moments. The only thing that could have improved it would be to have had a companion also iNatting and Merlining with me. I made those verbs up. It’s good to have a companion in your spiritual experiences occasionally.
There are such beautiful areas here.
On my first walk yesterday here at the Nails Creek Unit of Lake Somerville State Park, I took the Overlook Trail, after revisiting the Lake Trail, where all the White Pelicans, Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, Forster’s Terns, Northern Shovelers (charmingly shoveling away), Blue- and Green-winged Teals, and mystery sandpipers were in full force.
Forster’s Tern. Lee took the next few photos. PelicansWhite Ibis in flightCormorantI think it’s a NeotropicWhite PelicansGreat EgretsLesser YellowlegsLong-billed DowitcherThe ducks in here are shovelers Great Blue Herons and Great EgretsBonus: Texas Prickly Poppy
The Overlook Trail was breathtaking in its subtle way. First, it smelled wonderful, thanks to the blooming trees. There were Honey Locust, Honey Mesquite, Eve’s Necklacepod, and a lot of yaupon. That stuff smells so good.
Mysterious trailSpanish moss on trees!Yaupon holly blossoms and berries on the trail. Interesting! Maybe a direction marker tree. Grapes blooming but not like mine at home. The scent maker! Yaupon. Honey LocustHoney Mesquite
Every turn I took revealed new vistas or secluded nooks. I realized that I felt spiritually a-tingle, like I was in a religious service and being moved. Mother Nature’s church was what my soul needed.
The sign wasn’t kidding.
I enjoyed the viewing platform and all the lake views, though the little plants also enchanted me. I couldn’t have felt better. No news, no noise, no distractions.
I love it when I find pink spiderwort Baby blue eyes. My friends. Eve’s Necklacepod, which I forgot to put earlier. New one for me, pretty rare Phacelia glabraWild onionViewing platform View from platform Surprised to find Sabal minor here!FeatherOrange Sulphur Common Buckeye Pointed Phlox, which also smells wonderful in large groupings. Phlox cuspidata
Next we took an exciting trip to the grocery store in Somerville. This yard where someone planted a LOT of wildflowers was a highlight.
It’s pretty spectacular.
In the late afternoon it wasn’t too hot, so I went on the Cedar Creek Trail. It goes into the middle of the park, through beautiful post oak Savannah. The prairie parts were covered by wildflowers that like sandy soil, a few of which were new to me. The photos don’t do the scenery justice, plus all those little pointed phlox smelled better than perfume. I was often stopped in my tracks by the views. Wow.
Cedar Creek, with hog damageBlack VulturesSavannaEastern blue star Amsonia tabernaemontanaMix of new flowersAnother new one. Not sure of ID. Sandy Bluebonnet Lupinus subcarnosusClick these next few to see the flowers. A velvet antThe lovely pointed phlox again!New to me yellow star grass Hypoxis hirsuta
I realize this isn’t the Grand Canyon or Rocky Mountains, but to me this part of Texas is incredibly beautiful. I hope you enjoyed the photos.
…or it gives you allergies (all the beautiful flowers). I know this, having lived in east-central Texas for nearly thirty years. But, you know what? I chose to stay here long after my reason for arriving (a spouse’s job—the job left him, then he left me) no longer was pertinent.
Texas is beautiful and dangerous. These Northern Shovelers are harmless.
Upon arrival, it was immediately clear that I wasn’t in the Midwest anymore. I recognized oak trees, but they were tiny. I recognized a couple of birds, but what were those grackles? And why are so many things trying to hurt me?
Who knows what lurks around any corner?
I could have chosen either of two options. I could have complained about how strange and awful it is here, nature-wise, or I could learn about why all the flora and fauna are the way they are. I chose to study the plants, insects, reptiles, etc., and figure out how to coexist safely. That’s why you see me wandering all over rural areas and parklands feeling safe and happy. I know what to look out for.
I will not stomp through that grass without appropriate footwear.
So, when I went into the hen house today to get eggs but didn’t find but one, I was not surprised to see my old friend the rat snake reclining above the nesting boxes. I asked it to go eat some rodents, please, and left. That’s because I know what a rattlesnake or cottonmouth or coral snake looks like. And copperheads aren’t common where I live. This snake is useful.
Hi. I’m your buddy.
Here’s where I find myself being intolerant and judgmental. I apologize in advance. I live in a rural area and spend a lot of time outdoors. If I screeched every time I saw a rat or a bee, it would be really screechy at the Hermits’ Rest.
Or a worm-like insect. We sure have our share of caterpillars.
I just wonder why people choose to live here in the land of mesquite, greenbrier, cactus, and poison ivy without learning to identify them so they can avoid them, and dress safely when straying off sidewalks and manicured lawns. And why not learn which are the very few insects, spiders, or snakes that can actually hurt you and just let the others be? Or study them. Dang, this bold jumping spider is CUTE.
Look at that face! I know it’s a friend. Black widows don’t get to cruise around on my shoes.
There’s enough human-made nastiness right now that’s flooding us either fear (or sadness; I felt like weeping from the loss of hope today). It’s such a good feeling to know your place in nature and appreciate that every living thing has a “job” or reason to be in the ecosystem. Why scream at a rodent when you can deal with them and then observe them outdoors? Besides, cute li’l bunnies are rodents!
No rabbit photo, so here’s some rabbit tobacco. It’s a plant (Diaperia verna)
And those mean plants? Many are delicious! I’ve eaten greenbrier shoots every day this week, and anyone who’s tried nopales knows cactus is yummy. You just have to learn about it.
You can’t eat this, but isn’t it pretty? Wild indigo sepals after the petals fell out. Baptisia leucophaea
Yes, I’m judgmental about the squeamish. I’m probably lucky I wasn’t born with any phobias and learned to deal with my fear (flying roaches) pretty early in adulthood. Once I learned more about them, I’ve become very comfortable around the diversely defensive plants and animals I see. I hope more folks who are fearful out in nature can try this! You don’t have to become a Master Naturalist, just read about our world’s inhabitants, their habits, and how to deal with them safely.
On that note, enjoy White Pelicans, who are harmless except to fish.
I’m still working on that other topic from yesterday. I’ll get to it now that I’m in a very quiet campground on Lake Somerville. It’s pretty darned nice.
I’ve been thinking about an issue and debating with myself about it. It’s not earth shattering, but something integral to how I interact with others.
I want to revel in my potential, like these future blossoms.
Because of this, I don’t have the blog entry I planned, nor the rant I’d intended to share on Substack. I’d rather present fully formed ideas than total bull. I write enough of that.
I’m wanting to balance thinking about potential with being resilient now, like these poor flowers than got mowed yesterday and are still blooming.
I’ll get back to you tomorrow. Right now I’m physically exhausted and in pain. I’m not recovering well from last week’s horse adventures. Neither is the horse, so we’re together in our elderly aches and pains.
Apache reflected how I felt this afternoon, depleted. He’d have been less depleted if he hadn’t decided to leave his pen and make me go track him down in the pasture. I get it. He’s tired.
He practiced opening and shutting gates long enough at Tarrin’s today that I think he gets the idea that he needs to step up his game and move his butt when asked. I’m hoping we will soon have a practice gate of our own here so I can patiently work on these skills.
Our nemesis. The gate obstacle.
Back to pondering.
PS: Apache “helped” me take photos of Tarrin’s working equitation-style obstacles so I can maybe get some of my own. He wanted to be in every picture. He had to touch each object. What a guy.
This is what rusted on your shirt, right Suna? I did good on this obstacle! (It’s true, he let me spear the ring with the garrocha pole.)
The Hermits' Rest 