On April 3rd, when rains came and went and the trails were mostly dry, I took a walk up to the bluff through a growing garden of spiderwort, toadflax, and yellow wood sorrel. It felt like spring had brought out all its treasures so that the path to the bluff was full of color and movement. Butterflies in various colors flew irregular paths like big confetti, with a couple of tiger swallowtails moving through the area a little higher up with their yellow and black wings.
The sky was completely clear and blue, with the bright sun warming everything it touched. The day started quite cool, and the breeze could still almost bring a chill except for that radiant sunshine.
Like any good Cross Timbers woodland, the hill was a tangle. There were plenty of post oaks, blackjack oaks, some prickly ash and a few junipers, and greenbrier is always trying to knit together a thicket of thorns. But the canopy opened here and there, and the sun warmed the leaf litter and the sandy soil beneath it. A profusion of flowers grew in these woodland openings along with a few cacti, yucca, some native honeysuckle and other plants.
I keep coming back to Texas toadflax and those delicate violet flowers. “Toadflax” is a name that would fit right in the pages of The Wind in the Willows, and I love it. And there were lots of spiderwort (another cool name) with those deep blue flowers. I tried in vain to take a good photo of yellow wood sorrel, but could not capture the deep, vibrant yellow of those petals in the bright sunlight. So often when we stop and take a little time to look at small, easily overlooked things, the rewards are great.
And I had been waiting to see the first Texas spiny lizard of the year, and that day was the day. Not one, but three of these delightful, agile creatures. Each one was quick to scoot around to the opposite side of the tree trunk. Seeing these alert little woodland sprites is something I always look forward to.
A little over two months later, we have had so much rain that we are ahead of normal for the first part of the year. The trails know it, and the places where water percolates down through the hill and seeps out at the bottom are sloshy. We now have some small bridges to help get past the parts that stay the wettest, but in many other places the trails are a mess. But all those wonders, the flowers, insects, spiny lizards, and birds, will all be there when the trails dry up. I can’t wait!
