The Caregiver’s Tales
Tiny essays on life, nature, grief and other things that catch my fancy in the Texas Hill Country. Here’s how it all got started.
Tags
- .River 1
- 290 1
- A Resolution 1
- AAA 3
- AC Unit 1
- ALS 1
- ASCII 1
- Abandoned 1
- Abundance 2
- Abyss 1
- Acceleration 1
- Acceptance 2
- Accomodation 1
- Accomplishments 1
- Aches 1
- Acid 1
- Action 1
- Activity 1
- Adjusting 2
- Adoption 2
- Adrift 1
- Advice 1
- Again 1
- Agarita 1
- Age 7
- Ageless 1
- Ages 1
- Aging 6
- Air 1
- Air-tags 1
- Aircraft 1
- Alexa 1
- Aliens 2
- Alone 3
- Alpine 1
- Alvin 2
- Ambition 1
- American 1
- Amnesty 1
- Ancient Seas 1
- Anderson Fair 1
- Android 1
- Angels 5
- Anger 3
- Angles 1
- Animals 1
- Ankle 1
- Anniversary 3
- Anticipation 6
- Antiviral Meds 1
The Trees
High up in the middle of the big chinquapin oak is a dove’s nest. I discovered it one day quite by accident. I was standing by the tree with my hand on the trunk, thinking how thick it felt and remembering back to the days when we planted it.
My Sweet Tree
The biggest of the two chinquapin oaks is still largely a tree of bare branches. It’s odd because all of its brethren in the yard, lacy and burr, are on full display.
The Sage
The sage is in bloom. I’ve waited all summer. But the sage likes rain to bloom. None came. Now it has. Rain has fallen. Two of my three plants are resplendent in their glory of purple and gray.
Looking Ahead
The Yellow Bells is putting on a show again this year. It is soaring to outstanding heights and putting out some fabulous yellow blooms.
Good Friday
The swallows are back. All the old nests have occupants. Out in the garden the spiderworts are in bloom. And we have a few bluebonnets. It’s a muted spring, however, the profusion of previous years is missing.
Dead Leaves
I never really think about how many leaves are on the branches of our big oaks. They just hang there, swaying in the breeze, providing shade and shelter to me and the birds and the cats. Then comes the spring molt.
Hummingbird
All the leaves are brown, against the blue sky, and it’s obvious something hard came this way. The big oaks look weary. The leaves are burned, but oddly, none have fallen to the ground.