A Day at the Farm

The bluebonnets are gone and the firewheels are fading fast, replaced by horsemint,

dandelion,

Texas thistle,

and the beautiful, tiny white flowers of hedge-parsley, known to us as the dreaded beggar lice.

When mature, it's tiny seeds are covered with coarse bristles with hooks at the tips.  It begs a ride on pant legs, socks, and especially on the coats of our dogs.  

We are sliding from spring into summer.  A lone wine cup floats in the gentle breeze beside the road, a reminder that spring is almost gone. 

It is hot this morning; the humidity is high. It feels like we should be deep in the Louisiana swamps, or on the Mississippi Delta. Not in usually-high-and-dry Central Texas. There are lots of butterflies out, but most do not stay still long enough for me to take a picture.  This one was an exception.

Painted buntings and cardinals are singing their hearts out, And grasshoppers whirr from under our feet. The air is mostly still, and the sun seems to be struggling to reach its zenith. 

The dogs are doing their usual sniff around, but when I stop in the shade, they don’t waste the opportunity to lie down and cool off as well.  

As we pass 11 o’clock, a light breeze springs up, but it can’t decide if it’s going to come from the north or the southeast. It encourages us to trudge along to the shade along the creek.

The game camera reveals that early and late, the resident whitetail deer are visiting the protein feeder.  The does are heavy with fawn,

and the bucks are growing new sets of antlers.

After a short walk, the dogs and I stop at the lower pond for a dip, at least for them, and a roll in the grass.

I never expected that a couple of hours later, our lives would change forever, and that the photo above would be the last I would take of the Bagley Pack.