Thursday, April 30, 2026
Wednesday, April 29, 2026
Tuesday, April 28, 2026
Television weather reports
These
South Texas guys crack me up.
When
we were kids in Southern California, we knew about the desert. We learned
to be wary of flash floods. Dry arroyos. They’re dangerous, even if
it not raining. The rain can be miles away in the mountains. The
water builds up in the mountains and consolidates down to the dry arroyos,
rising quickly, flooding within minutes. That’s a flash flood.
When
we get rain here, and there is a danger of flooding, the weatherman refers to
the situation as “flash flooding”. There isn’t a hill within a hundred
miles, and we’re going to get a surprise flash flood? The ground is
flat. It rains. The rain has nowhere to go, so the water slowly
rises. I think that’s actually just called flooding.
Monday, April 27, 2026
Rose-breasted Grosbeak
Males
and females.
A
Northeastern bird. Judy and I are Westerners. We never heard of
these birds before we came to Texas. They pass through here on their way
from wintering grounds in South and Central America.
Sunday, April 26, 2026
A wild kingdom moment
A
strangely behaving curve-billed thrasher alerted me to an issue. Seeing
him jumping around squawking and flapping, I went back inside and grabbed the
camera. Once I walked back out, the thrasher perched on the blue heron
statue to watch the conclusion of the drama unfold from there.
The
bird had already harassed the 5-foot-long indigo snake enough that he had begun
leaving by the time I got there. Here is a shot of his front end, but the
head was obscured. You can see the rest of the snake still curled up in
the garden.
And
here is the back half disappearing into a hole underneath the side of our shed.
Indigo
snakes are beautiful and they’re beneficial too, eating rats and mice.
We’re very glad to have an indigo snake at our house, looking glorious and
reducing the rat and mouse population (as well as having the neighborhood
roadrunner bird who helps keep down the population of house sparrows).
Saturday, April 25, 2026
It’s migration
We
get to see birds we don’t normally see the rest of the year.
Like
hooded warblers.
In
the bushes.
In
the grass.
Sometimes
almost underfoot.
Or
right out next to a sidewalk.
And
sometimes female.
From:
Steve Taylor
Sent: Saturday, April 25, 2026 3:16 PM
To: Judy Taylor <judy@taylorroth.com>
Subject: It’s migration
We
get to see birds we don’t normally see the rest of the year.
Like
hooded warblers.
Sometimes
almost underfoot.
Or
right out next to a sidewalk.