I made the drive up to Huntsville State Park with perhaps a bit less enthusiasm than normal, this morning.
No, it wasn’t out of any concern for the weather. Radar showed the morning storms moving towards clearing off and a gap before the next that seemed perhaps 3+ hours.
Far cry from the suggestion of a recent 10-day forecast, which seemed to alternate between “Thunderstorms” and “70% Chance of Thunderstorms,” with nothing else interspersed.
No, my apprehension was fueled by a strong positive, actually. The intense feeling of re-connection I had when flyfishing, not too long ago, in Northern Georgia (Read the first installment HERE). The feel of the cool breezes, the touch of the crystal-clear streams, the smell of the mountain woods…all have no place in South Texas….right?
So, my concern, frankly, was that I would simply be let down by the comparison, the memories of that trip so fresh in my mind.
Of course, when I pulled onto the entry road, rolled down my windows, and felt the gentle touch of the few straggling raindrops, that all went away.
As one drives in, there is a pull-off on the left, where a narrow tendril of the pond (I refuse to call it a “lake”) stretches out its narrowing reach along the roadway. From there, I sometimes find birds on the hunt, or turtles basking in the morning sun.
Today, a watchful hunter…
…and a threesome of young finding their way in a shallower part of the marsh.
As I turned to head back to the car, the final set of pics taken of those little ones, a watchful adult shifted just enough for my eye to catch the movement.
And the raindrops faded, as I made my way to the trailhead parking.
Odd that the last two campsites, those we consider “the best” by virtue of being fairly removed from the others and backing up to both the trail areas and the side of the…ummm…pond, were vacant. Maybe, I though to myself as I made my way through them, toward a fallen tree that various birds seem inclined to rest upon, those people will come today…or the rains scared them off.
That downed tree? It was offering a perch to this wet and weary bird, just trying to dry out and warm up a bit.
The trail, itself, was far more overgrown than the last time I ventured down this path. Nice to see, especially with the volume of flowers it was offering, but also because the extra flora offers cover for residents like this…
Now, between this and the next pic I took, a funny thing happened. There is a branch in the trail that one comes to, where you essentially get to decide if you are taking the loop clockwise (waterside first) or counterclockwise (deeper woods first). Looking at the freshly rain-washed trail, and seeing no other footprints, I opted for the counterclockwise option, thinking I would have a better chance of seeing woodland creatures that are more often scared away, once hikers (walkers!) start using the trail, each day.
Perhaps five minutes later, just as I came into the increasingly dense tree-cover, a pair of deer were staring at me, made eye contact for a few seconds, then bolted.
Sadly, I had been staring up at some birds, wondering if I could get a pic of them before they flitted off, before that moment, so I had walked entirely too close to the deer for them to feel comfortable waiting for me to get out my camera.
So, no pics. Sorry. Take it up with the CTDWWL (Coalition of Texas Deer Who Want to Live), if you can get them to hold still long enough to file a complaint.
After some twists in the path, and more than a few failed attempts to get pics of what seemed to be half a dozen mated pairs of Cardinals, the old, familiar “trail tunnel” presented itself.
I always smile at the sight of this. Seems like it could be more than an overgrown path, some days…
Today, just beyond that, one, slightly less nervous Cardinal allowed me a pic, too!
Believe me, that might not be 100% clear, but they are hard to catch in a still moment.
From there to the bend where the trail heads toward water, a few more opportunities for some moments out of time caught my eyes.
Which brings us to a spot where a bench sites at a bend in the path, and pair of other paths diverge from the main, offering options for those with more time and energy. One of them, especially as the sky was clearing and the sunlight starting to sneak through gaps in the canopy, did briefly catch my attention.
But…no. Recent rain + clearing skies + S. Texas temps = Impending sauna-like walking conditions. Best to beat that and close the loop.
(that one was just as the trail angled over toward the side of the water)
In it’s way, for what it is, this is a great spot. I can admit that.
After seeing the various birds, and a pair of deer, I began to scan the edge of the water more closely, hoping I could press my luck and get another rare sighting…possibly even get a pic.
In the third or fourth stretch of open shoreline, I saw bumps that seemed to hold my gaze. Far enough out that I was not 100% sure, and even far enough out that zooming my old Canon out to its maximum did not resolve my indecision, due to it’s small viewing screen, I went ahead and snapped a few pics, just in case.
Yeah…very obvious, once it’s blown up, contrast adjusted, etc!
So, at that point, I was feeling quite nice about this little adventure! Great walk, some excellent sightings, and (I hoped) some good pics. A bit farther down, though, I stopped in the trail, staring at the patch of reeds, near the shore.
This time, I was sure before I took the first pic.
No, it wasn’t that his little head was any more easily identified than the first one. In fact, with the branches in the water around him, it may well have been harder to make out his eyes and nose.
It was the little hump of his back/tail that gave him away, about a foot behind those beady, little eyes.
Very distinctive shape, to be sure!
In case you ever find yourself at Huntsville State Park…I would encourage you to take the “No Swimming” signs very, very seriously. Remember that these little ones had to come from bigger ones. In fact, just after taking these, from the far side of the water, I heard the very distinctive bellow of a good sized ‘gater, rumbling across the surface of the pond.
Last opportunity for a good pic, on the way back to the car, offered itself up as I climbed the gradual incline to the place where that fork in the trail waited.
Don’t know why, but I just liked the contrast with the green beyond, the red leaves, and those shiny, black feathers.
In the end, the morning served to remind me that there are variations in “beauty,” and that what one can get to more easily should still be recognized for what it can offer. Was it a morning flyfishing? No. But, God willing, I will have more of those ahead of me. Doesn’t mean I should give up on anything that does not offer the same experience.
Until next time…
Tight lines…