Well,
now. Here was a whirlwind day if I ever
lived one. It began with the sad
realization that we left George and his older brother Herbert back in Waco,
along with two pair of my blue jeans and Chris’s new skirt. Rather than backtrack we decided to entrust
their care to Josh and Christi and hope to see them again sometime before the
summer’s end. Sigh.
On a
more positive note, Chris’ shingles were still hanging around, but she insisted
she could make it through one more day.
She really wanted to see some wildflowers. I wanted to see a moose. We kind of compromised. After a breakfast that included a free
Texas-shaped waffle (always a crowd
favorite. Well, a crowd called “me”),
we went to a museum in downtown Fredericksburg.
Interesting compilation of data regarding their early settlers and how
they came from Germany through Indianola to Fredericksburg. They should have come through Galveston, but
then, no one asked me or any of my German predecessors at the time. The most interesting thing about that museum
(aside from the fact that it was next door to the fire station, but I resisted
the urge to go into chaplain mode and make a visit) was the tiny baby mocking
bird we met on the steps on our way in. I
think it was time for the youngster to start flying, and he was being a bit
resistant to the idea. He was still
around when we came back outside, but he was waddling his way on foot towards a
large patch of grass under a big oak tree.
About that time Momma and Daddy bird both swooped down upon him. Momma pecked him gently, the not so gently
gave him a big shove closer to the grass.
The adults then flew back into the tree.
Not Junior, though. He finished
his stroll across the concrete and sat down to rest in the cool softness of
grass. We didn’t see any predators in the
area, so our hope was that the youngster made it back home in one piece.
That
interlude gave Chris enough time to locate an intriguing entry on an obscure
website. Somewhere within 13 or so miles
of Fredericksburg there was (drumroll
here) The Willow City Loop. There
was not much more information than that available. Something about it traversing private
property, so don’t dare stop or get out of your car. We were
in the back hills, so there was that
haunting memory of a certain Coon Dog Cemetery drive from years past. I had no intention of exiting the car. But the possibility of wildflowers and
wildlife was too much to pass up, so off we went.
Other
than the squirrel on a tree right at the entrance to the Loop and the multiple
roadkill pizza toppings we encountered (five
or six deer, one fox, numerous armadillos), the only significant wildlife
spottings thus far had been Chris’ buffalo (which
I never saw, so it was unconfirmed), the cattle at LBJ’s place, and one
random, gamboling cow. Now, this was not
a calf, mind you. A cow on the side of
the road at someone’s ranch suddenly just leapt into the air and tossed its
head to one side in as carefree a gesture as I have seen in years. Made it completely into the air, mind you. All four feet off the ground at the same
time. Amazing. Inspiring.
Also, however, officially unconfirmed, because Chris didn’t see it. So … no moose as yet, but I was still open to
the possibilities before us. And the Willow
City Loop didn’t disappoint. Well, a
little disappoint … I still didn’t see a moose.
But the road wound around and around and up a mountain of sorts and
across cattle guards too numerous to count.
Our first indication that we were in dangerous territory came when we
passed The Boot Ranch. Not sure if that
was its official name, but that’s what I called it. See, all along the fence line, on top of
every single post (and there were hundreds),
was a boot. Just a single boot. Imagine all the overly curious tourists it
took to gather that many boots. Oh, and
just to make sure you weren’t thinking yourself safe because you weren’t wearing
boots (I had on my Tevas, by the way, and
was feeling a bit smug), there was a
baseball cap. Yikes. I slowed down enough for Chris to take a
picture, but no stopping here, thank you very much.
Now
about our respective hopes for the drive.
Apparently we were too late for any of the potentially vibrant fields of
wildflowers. We paused here and there
for a blooming cactus and a panoramic view of the countryside, but no real
wildflowers. Wildlife, on the other
hand, was a different story. As we got
farther and farther into the trail we saw quite a few birds that I vaguely recalled
seeing in a book one time. Chris once
again tried to counsel me on the difference between a cardinal and a simple redbird. I’m still confused by that one. If a bird is red, doesn’t that make it, by
definition, a red bird? The most
interesting one to me was the one with the really long tail that looked like it
was split in half and dragging behind it.
I think Chris called it a scissor-tail.
They were fun to watch. Flew
really fast, but the tail seemed to just drag them down. Didn’t appear to be all that aerodynamically
sound. At one point we rounded a bend
and there in the middle of the road was … a big ol’ cow. Numerous cows and calves, in fact, but this
one was blocking our path … staring. Not
eager for a confrontation of any kind, I slowed to a stop. The cow stared. I inched forward, to Chris’ chagrin. She didn’t want to record for the insurance
company how the car was damaged in a cow attack. Still the cow stared. Finally she had enough and strolled -very
slowly - toward the side of the road.
And just before she cleared enough for us to get by, she kicked up her
back heels. I’m not sure, but I think in
cow talk we were just told where to go.
Further
up the road we had a second encounter.
This time the sighting was a deer.
A lone deer munching grass right on the side of the road. Again I slowed to a stop so Chris could get a
picture before he took off running.
Except he never took off running.
He looked up at us, gave us one of those, “Huh. Another stupid tourist” looks and returned to
his lunch. Intrigued now, I waited to
see what he would do. Bambi took his
sweet time, but he casually strolled into the street right in front of us. Just when it looked like he was about to
sprint into the underbrush, he paused and scratched his chin with a back
paw. Incredibly nonchalant beast. He finally disappeared on the other side of
the road. Well, it wasn’t a moose, but
at least we got close.
The advertised
thirteen mile loop actually turned out to be closer to twenty by the time we
returned to the road back to Fredericksburg.
But we made it out safely. Not at
all what we expected, but quite the adventure, nonetheless.
Hebrews
9:15 says, “For this reason Christ is the
mediator of a new covenant, that those who are called may receive the promised
eternal inheritance — now that he has died as a ransom to set them free from
the sins committed under the first covenant.”
Father,
thank you for all those creatures of yours that we got to see. Your world is amazing. Amen.
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