I thought of the mustard seed that often lies dormant for sixty years before it becomes a burst of color gracing the roadside, or the rock pile or the vineyard.
There’s a substantial part of me that has been dormant, taking a back burner to family and livelihood. Now it’s my time to germinate. Who knows. I might even bloom.
I can’t help it.I’m
just a big ol’ kid when it comes to animals and zoos.There’s no better way to spend a drizzly,
summer Sunday afternoon than a trip to a zoo.And that’s what ELM and I did.We
found The Texas Zoo in Victoria.It is a
small zoo, but very, very clean and the animals are in excellent
condition.It’s a lovely little park
with lots of friendly, shaded viewing sites and benches—perfect for seniors and
small children alike.The day we went,
there were only a few people out in the misty rain, so we had the opportunity
to observe the animals and I got to take pictures unhindered. I'm no Deby Dixon--I'm just an old woman with a camera. But I had a great time and got some fun shots for the scrap book. The admission price was a walloping four dollars.
These two beautiful
Bengal tigers and a pair of lionesses were the major "exotic" exhibits. I'm forever in awe of the big cats with their magnificient beauty,
exuding their formiddable power even in repose.
If you want to play ball with this lady, you might want to bring your "A" game.
Then there were the baboons.
The old married couple. She groomed him with such tenderness.
Another exotic, the shy coatimundi...
The Petting Zoo
I could watch the otter for hours. This one looked a bit lonely. I hope they get him/her a playmate soon.
THE INTERACTIVE AVIARY
There is a portion of the aviary that we were able to walk into and actually interact with the birds--budgies, conures, ducks, red ibis, and even a spoonbill.
Steve (below) is a real show-stealer. He loves to chew shoes and is magnetized by anything shiny. He's the greeter at the Interactive Aviary.
More birds next post. Thank you for visiting. Go have a wonderful day!
One advantage to insomnia is being awake when the rest of
the world is quiet. Sunday morning I went walking by the water before
sunrise. The day promised to be far too
beautiful to squander.
I hurried home and woke poor ELM from his only opportunity to “sleep
in” for over a week. Before he was awake
enough to protest, I dragged him and Floppy Dog out for a sunrise sail. I don’t think either of them was disappointed. I certainly was not.
The sunrise was spectacular.
The sea was calm, so we ventured
close to shore and hung a crab trap on an old pile.
A shrimp boat was working its nets with its entourage of sea
gulls and pelicans making a halo around
the tall riggings.
Mother porpoise, with baby riding on her fin, was teaching
baby to fish the wake of the shrimp boat.
What a feeling that baby must have had, snuggled against Mom’s body, shooting
through the warm waves in that glorious light.
An excited kayacker spotted the porpoises also .
Body, mind and spirit have, at long last, come together for
me in this place. I’m no longer
disjointed, dysphased, disgruntled or discombobulated. Although I may still
suffer some mild distemper from time to time, I haven’t gone rabid for months
I do regret not having the resources to be able to travel to the more exotic
More often, though, I realize that I have already found
everything I’ve been looking for.
There's a promise in
the journeys of the mind
You begin to believe that there are miracles you will find
And that someday you'll remember who you are
The seed within a bright and shining star_____John Denver,Wandering Soul
The Evil Little Man (ELM) and I (with Floppy Dog and the four parrots) logged
a few miles on the RV before first light that autumn morning.When dawn arrived, it looked like any ordinary sunrise on any
ordinary day.But it was the first time
in 48 years I had seen the sunrise overtheTexas town where I was born. Memories I didn’t know I possessed erupted
from a place inside me I didn’t know existed.A seldom-known sense of comfort and peace settled on me like the red Texas
dust after a sand storm. I thought that I could smell bluebonnets and
honeysuckle, though they had ceased to bloom months before.
It was all hauntingly familiar, but
it was not “ home.”
We moved on, heading further
south.The PLAN was to plunk down in
Galveston, and from there explore the Gulf—New Orleans, Mobile, and on to
So much for The PLAN.
I’d never even heard of this
obscure little coastal town in which we found ourselves on that Sunday
afternoon last October.I never planned
to be here. I didn’t even know where
“here” was. I did know that the Indian summer sun had sent the thermometer
soaring to 108.The RV’s air conditioner
was overworked and under achieved.We’d
blown out a tire on the boat trailer.Ourparrots were screaming, the floppy dog was whining. ELM and I were hungry,
frustrated and just plain tired.
So when we rounded the bend and viewed the white beaches,
frothy waves, proud old shrimp boats and shore birds of all descriptions, it
seemed like a good place to take a break.We found a lovely oak-shaded resort with its own marina and restaurant
on the bay.By the time we had slipped
the boat and finished dinner, I was enthralled with the view.But when we walked out on the dock and the
wild dolphins came right into our boat slip, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere
The following morning we took the boat for a sail.We had the entire 81 square-mile bay to
ourselves.The wind was steady and the
sea was gentle.There were butterflies
in the middle of the bay.The dolphins
were all around us.I felt as though
we’d discovered a secret paradise.
In the succeeding days, the bay has been quick to show us a
few of her tricks—fog, gales, rain storms, sunsets and rainbows; and just as
quick to share her bounty of fish and seafoodcaught with our own hands.The wild
dolphins know our boat now and they always come to greet us.We’ve made friends of seabirds and sailors,
natives and winter Texans.ELM
claimsthat this is the place he should have been born. I thought the
novelty of the area would wear off and we’d soon be on the road again.
Six months later, I still find myself waking before sunrise
each morning, looking forward to the day and wondering what new gifts await us here
in our version of Paradise. Where will we sail?What will we see? What will we
discover?Will there be shrimp or crab
or oysters or a new viariety of fish?
The people are
friendly and fun.The birds and wildlife
never cease to entertain.I find joy in
every sunrise and serenity in every sunset.Each day I become more
comfortable, more at peace.Each day is
a gift of new friends, new experiences and always a surprise.Will
there be torrents and thunder storms, or rainbows and butterflies?
I didn’t know what was missing.All these years I’ve suspected that I was on
the wrong path, going the wrong direction, but not knowing where to turn.I felt
out of phase and disconnected, as though Body, Mind and Spirit were somehow misaligned.But “sometimes on the way to your dream, you get lost and find a better
one.” (. ..River @ Drifting Through Life)
Against my “better”
judgment, I can feel myself putting down
roots.It’s risky business, getting
attached to people and places and things.Yet, it appears that this old stray dog has, at long last, found a porch
to call her own.