Big N, little n, FX nature

Recently a  coworker took time off to go swim with sharks in an aquarium. Today I spent time staring at schools of tiny fish in the lowering waters of the Heard Nature Center wetlands, at mating Eastern pondhawks, at Mr. Big Ribbit, and listened to a warbler sing about the inch worm it ate for lunch. We each have our own bucket list, I guess.

Inchworm still in its beak.

Eastern pondhawks ensuring the future of their species.

Last evening leaving work I drove past a protest march outside a French restaurant. The marchers carried placards demanding an end to torture of ducks and geese. I don't know much about foie gras, but I was offered a sample of gourmet hummus on a pretzel stick at the grocery store today. A radio opinionator carrying on about Scott Pruitt's disregard of climate science suggested letting hungry polar bears loose in Congress. Congress gras. Congress hummus.

Walking the boardwalk over the wetlands an older couple was torturing two granddaughters with forced exposure to nature. The girls could not spy the warbler, or hear it singing over their own exasperated sighs. "You must learn to love nature," the grandparents kept saying in between phone selfies. March on! Or as the girls thought, "YRMLM."

Passing the spot where I saw snakes* on a recent visit to the Heard I found instead the biggest frog I've ever seen outside of captivity. It was bigger than a 24 oz. bucket of probiotic Greek yogurt.


© 2014-2018 Nancy L. Ruder


Beats a doctor's waiting room

2018 has been low on mental health hikes and the wear and tear is showing. North Texas is already ghastly hot and humid, and it isn't even July. Knew I had to start early if I wanted to get a walk in, and the only walk motivator I came up with was The Hunt for the Missing Turtle Pond.

Since the new accessible trail and boardwalk opened at Oak Point, I hadn't figured out where the new improvements crossed over the old familiar trails. The Turtle Pond whereabouts was particularly bothering.

So, it is found, but no turtles were hanging out. Also, no snakes.

There was a peek-a-boo butterfly or two:

A nice addition is this historical sign on the Willow Springs Trail showing the site of the first Methodist meetings at the Russell home. Unfortunately the land grant information in the lower right corner is already illegible.

The current First United Methodist Church is just down Spring Creek Parkway at the intersection with East Parker Road.


Fungus looked so much like a melted hot fudge sundae I had to go to Braums next.

Looking crabby because they couldn't get a Braums sundae.
Find the Joseph Russell land grant on Rowlett Creek.

© 2014-2018 Nancy L. Ruder