Amazing disgrace

The alarm began its insistent whine at 4:30 and as I fumbled and missed the snooze button several times I considered giving the sad nuisance another flying lesson. Before I sent it on a sub-orbital journey across the ceiling fan I remembered it was “beach day”! I didn’t necessarily jump out of bed, but I at least had reason to be stirring at such an unholy hour.

We had waited for several months before venturing down to the coast to play, so it was with great anticipation (and expectation) that we set off on our 4 hour sojourn to the Gulf and its beaches. The moon was still shining brightly in the western sky as we loaded the Explorer with the necessary and the unnecessary. Moonlight gave way to a gorgeous sunrise as we dropped down from the escarpment and into the misty farmlands below. There was the mystery of the roads ahead – roads we had yet to travel. Our destination? Port Aransas on the north end of Mustang Island and perhaps Padre Island just south of there.

The sunrise dissolved into leaden skies the closer we got to the coast and the threat of rain became imminent. The black wall of an approaching storm grew closer and we watched the lightning as we made the short ferry crossing into Port Aransas. We knew we were going to get wet, but drove onto the beach anyway. The winds were warm and tolerable and the water temperature was warm and perfect! The seaweed (technically known as Sargassum) was everywhere, defying the city’s cleanup crew’s efforts at tidying up the beach. The Sargassum had been driven in by the recent storms Emily and Dean. The black clouds loomed ever threateningly to the south, so……………we naturally drove south. We poked along at the beach speed limit of 15 mph and right into and through a terrible rain storm. We chose to stay on the beach (a.k.a. road) figuring if we couldn’t get out and play in it we could at least keep it in view. Our beach travel was nearly half the length of a deserted Mustang Island – miles of sand and seaweed and rain. We felt fortunate indeed to have the island beach to ourselves, passing only 2 other vehicles.

The storm had passed by the time we turned onto Padre Island and things brightened a bit as we headed toward the Padre Island National Seashore. We ponied up for the $20 annual pass fee and spent some time in the visitors center as we assessed the potential threat of rain. We had been to South Padre Island nearly a decade ago and really wanted to get the lay of the northern part of the barrier island. We wandered for a bit on the beach in front of the center; eyes ever searching for sharks teeth. We had abandoned all hope of playing in the sun and with it the potential for some au naturel time which is possible farther down the island past the “4WD only” point – maybe 5 or 6 miles down (there is 50 miles of primitive beach after all). We decided to at least drive to that turnaround point before heading home (it was nearly 3) and make plans for a return trip.

The pavement disappeared as we made the sweeping right onto the beach of the National Seashore and … I stood on the brakes as we rounded the “beach rules” sign. The sight of what lay before us was shocking … incomprehensible. The disgusting amount of trash that had washed ashore was beyond belief. This was a National Seashore with a complete retinue of badged and buckled park rangers. We sat stunned and horrified, neither daring to break the silence. I drove on hoping against all hope that it would improve – it did not. I did not even get out the camera; it seemed not worth the pixels. I drove to the 5 mile marker and 4WD warning sign and turned around. We both got past “stunned” and moved on to anger and despair.

We had seen this on South Padre Island 10 years ago, but wrote it off to a recent storm and inattention since it wasn’t part of the NPS. This was exponentially worse than SPI. Trying to describe it without the evidential photos is not giving it its full measure; however, think of it as one of those poorly maintained backwater roads that gets trash dumped around them because no one is looking or cares and is the weekend party spot for teens that leave it all behind ‘cause “why not?” I was fuming at the NPS at first and then at those responsible for funding the NPS. I was furiously writing letters and creating blogs and protesting in front of the NPS headquarters. I was mad as hell. We were mad as hell. How dare they not put any apparent effort into cleaning up one of our national treasures? I was embarrassed as a citizen and a taxpayer and appalled that such a travesty could occur.

On the drive home I read an article in the PINS rag sheet regarding the trash problem. According to the article the problem is an overwhelming one; however there have been pieces of legislation passed and cleanup efforts mounted to help alleviate the problem. Without studying the legislative initiatives I cannot comment on their “teeth” or legitimacy; however, I’m glad some attention is being paid. The article states that “…beach cleanups and individual park visitors have helped remove hundreds of tons of debris” – HUNDREDS OF TONS???? Now you are getting the picture, hmmmm? Along with the boilerplate plastics and household trash there is also toxic chemical waste and medical waste found on the shores. The article goes on to state, ”…each year an unknown number of marine and terrestrial animals appear on the shores of Padre Island that have been maimed or killed by entanglement in or ingestion of ocean-borne trash.” The finger is pointed at the oil industry, commercial shrimping, commercial shipping, recreational fishing and cruise ship activity. I think it is safe to say that garbage scows still dump in the Gulf (as well as the rest of the world’s oceans) even though it is an illegal activity in many countries. All this is brought to the shore by a current convergence that makes the barrier island the backstop.

As I continued to read, my anger and frustration began to change direction and focus and I realized that the problem is far greater than the inattention of the NPS. The problem as I see it is a gross disrespect for our planet – harder to see since it is so pervasive and harder to solve since there is not a person, agency or country to finger. Viewing the disgusting amount of trash on that one island is just a micro view of what is happening all over the world; however, that micro view was and is right in our face. The endangerment to the nesting sea turtles, herons and other wildlife that depend on those shores is mankind engaging in terrible and irresponsible behavior.

We talked about what we can and will do personally. Picking up bags at the entrance to haul out trash when we visit is one. Participating in organized beach cleanups is another. Publishing our experience there and writing the appropriate agencies and legislators will be another route. I’ve seen several photo books on the “beautiful” Texas coast and I think a photo essay on the un-beautiful parts needs to be done as well.

The photo above is one I took on South Padre Island 10 years ago. It is one of my favorite photos, but marred by the knowledge that beneath that gorgeous setting sun was a disgraceful display of mankind’s stupidity – not ignorance, but stupidity.

If one can overlook the trash beneath your feet, the barrier islands are truly a magical place full of plant and animal diversity. That is why we’ll go back. That is why we will do what we can to help and to educate by whatever medium. That is why I’m writing here.

Tejas immersion

Did I mention that this was a LOT OF WORK????? No! This is not a complaint! I just remember the phone call I made to “B” when Taylor and I first saw the house. The phone conversation in which I stated, “I think I’ve found the house. Nothing to do to it really, we just move in. Perfect!” LOL! We’ve only stopped working on it because one or the other of us had called a moratorium on work and insisted that we go “play” or because of visitors.

Renovating the pasture has begun. I know, I did say next season; however, my obsessive self has taken charge. So 8 feet past the gate I ran into the impenetrable wall of prickly pear cactus. Huge would be an understatement – 5-6 feet tall and 8-10 feet at the base. Careful is the operative word here! VERY CAREFUL! I have cleared 2/3 of the fence along the outside, removing scrub bush, cedar saplings and a LOT of cactus. So far this will be a few days of burning. It was 10 days straight of pyromania to rid the accumulated brush from the previous owners. I called a couple of people to come “shred” (bush hog) the pasture, but because of the hidden limestone boulders and stumps (and probably the unlimited amount of easier work without rock east of here because of the rain) they summarily declined. So, it’s me and my string mower, chain saw and machete - we’ll see how fast 2 acres can be cleaned up. A tractor is still on the “buy” list, but I’m not ready to tear it all up yet – late winter for that de-construction.

So, the youngest came to visit from Seattle for her birthday week. We just opened up a “money vein” and bled all over Austin and surrounds - met a lot of new restaurants, galleries, bars and coffee shops. All in all, it was a fun week and all too soon she left and we started working again.

After a couple of days I think we realized that the previous week off had seriously compromised our work resolve and yesterday we decided to go play yet again. We checked out a local spring park – used to be hotel and amusement park and now part of Texas State University. It is the headwaters of the San Marcos River and is an amazing study in ecological diversity. The water is beautiful, blue and clear and they have these little glass bottom boats that give you an up close and personal look at what lies beneath. Floating boardwalks wind throughout the wetlands and give a different view of the flora and fauna. There are abundant photo ops throughout.

We spent the rest of the day in the flea markets and the quaint little tourist trap of Gruene – well, spent mostly with our feet up, drinking beer and people watching while listening to a live band in the Gruene Hall. Somehow the view of the crazy fauna in the dance hall from beneath the brim of a hat on a hot Sunday afternoon gave me the distinct impression of total immersion into the Tejas-scape. “Hey…a couple of Shiner Bocks ma’am...”

A sweet soul

My ever constant friend Varla has lost her very special boy, Kyu-jin to kidney failure yesterday. My heart just go out to her and Muscles. Kyu-jin, a Shar-pei, was a sweet and sensitive dog with an amazing spirit. I feel very fortunate to have spent time with him – a loving soul who’s time was entirely too short on this plane. Safe home Kyu-jin, safe home. Stop by and give Varla some hugs and love.

Got marshmallows???

It’s been cool and dry here for the last few days – a mere 97.3 today and similar temps throughout the week. So instead of drawing out the mitts and muffs I decided a “little” fire was in order. The earlier photo was taken after it had been greedily consuming the accumulated brush for several hours. I did have to wait for the winds to calm (which they usually do by early afternoon) so the fire went into the evening. What you don’t see are the feeder piles behind me. I quit feeding the flames around 9:30 pm, but I was up until 4 or 5 am keeping an eye on the breezes and dwindling coal bed. So much debris gone and much more to go! I don’t even want to think of how hot it was near the fire. I think my hair is a bit shorter.

See that brush pile in the background? It is mostly VERY seasoned cedar and the potential for one mean, unintentional fire has had us pretty worried all through the lightning season earlier. That pile may take several days to destroy – it stands taller than me. There is also a good bit left along the upper drive and the north property line that was felled during the neighbor’s survey a few years ago. I’m into day three of pyromania now. It may be a few more.

Such a perfect fire – too bad all that energy is wasted. I mean, I think I know an administration that needs a good cleansing. Just sayin’!

Send marshmallows!

Polonious Hoot

We've heard him for months and watched for any sign of him in the waning light of day. I'd seen glimpses of large owls on the ride back from town in the twilight hours, but never a long enough look to confirm the kind of owl. Last night I surprised our boy as he was "gathering" in the parking area in front of the house. I sailed out the front door unaware of his presence ... he took wing and I jumped, but the look was long enough to know that our hooter was a Great Horned Owl.

I've a particular fondness for Great Horned Owls. When I was an early teen one of our neighbors, the county solicitor, struck an owl on the way home through the rural parts of south Georgia. The owl only suffered a broken wing. but would surely perish in the wild, so he gathered up the raptor in a blanket and drove toward home for several hours with a very angry owl in the back seat. There was no "Raptor Center" as there is today, so with the aid of the old vet that lived at the end of the block, the wing was set and a large aviary was quickly constructed in my neighbor's backyard. To say that this bird was huge is an understatement of epic proportion. He had a wingspan of around 4 feet and eyes the size of saucers - yellow saucers. He was a neighborhood curiosity for sure, but after a while the interest waned for most. I, on the other hand, was enthralled and would go help at feeding time several days a week. There was an excitement that defies description of having this great raptor sit on my gloved and gauntleted arm - never threatening, never frightening, he just sat quietly and looked about. He never really fully recovered, but the family did well by their hooter. They moved about a year later and the owl was placed in a new wildlife center - they didn't have the room in their new place and the owl continued to need a lot of attention. If you've never looked into the eyes of an owl ... well you should - it is humbling at the least.

Our boy last night had landed on a branch of a live oak in the stand in the front of the house. I watched him for a while, not thinking that I could capture a photo since the light quality was so poor. I'm glad I had second thoughts. I grabbed up the camera and the 300mm lens, set the ISO at 1600 and prayed that all parties would cooperate. He was still about 50 yards off so I braced the camera on the porch post. held my breath and squeezed this off at 1/10th of a second. I hope he returns for a better portrait.

The name Polonious Hoot? Just came and seemed to fit! ;)

Hope you all are having an excellent weekend.

Fire in shadows

I had another post ... but I suppose I'm just not ready to share it yet.

So .................. I give you these instead for Friday!

TGIF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Magic Window

It may not be Dis*ney, but it sure seems like the Magic King*dom some days. All of these shots were taken while sitting at the breakfast table. The first pic I think is the fawn's mom, but the older doe in the 7th pic is the one who drew the fawn away from Simon - see the 4th pic. The fawn was VERY curious about Simon and kept going back to check him out. The doe were not pleased with the fawn's curiosity.

Earlier I woke to the 2 doe, the fawn and the buck all foraging in the front yard. There was a new hummingbird at the feeder outside the kitchen window, which now makes 3 hummers feeding. We finally saw the female painted bunting at the feeder just off the porch - the male has been around for a while. Sebastian showed up just after the deer left the back yard where the photos were taken. Izzy snuck out of the house while I was feeding Simon and they were standing within a couple of yards of each other - Simon just gathered up his bread and went about his business. I am grateful for this little slice of heaven and these little vignettes during the day make the work of the move worth it.

Several of you have asked how I'm doing and the answer is OK. Staying busy has helped. I'll elaborate in another post.

Remember - click on any of the photos to enlarge - the 4th photo is a treat!

The peacable kingdom

Simon says "I was a good boy ... now where the bread?"