Kids' camp captures cuddles

On the left, our granddaughter is eager and apprehensive at the same time about holding the racoon that Nanny is handing to her at the CampJunction Beaumont a few days back. But she quickly got the hang (right) of it and refused to give the cuddly thing back -- not that the racoon was all that happy with the arrangement.

Before we left home, the grandkids were in the "I don't want to go to some stupid petting zoo" mode. But we had a hard time getting them to leave. I sure they will be more eager the next time.
-- steve buser

petty zoo, Beaumont, Texas

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You want this branch? You and what flock?

On the right is where the action is in this fighting scene. Egret A is calling out Egret B --you will notice the crowd is looking on kind of stupified. After all, an good Egret worth his feathers wouldn't be hanging out on the outside branches as night falls. Then to fight over those miserly spots, on top of it. Makes a bird wonder where the world's coming to.

The scene is from the heronry I discovered yesterday near Kirbyville. It was an amazing gathering spot. This one tree was the focus. Apparently it is the address of choice for social climbing herons. Last one in at night has to fight his way into plush addresses.

I would still be shooting there, but I filled up my memory card, and I forgot to reformat the other that is on the blink.
--steve buser

Herons, Texas

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Egret unrest

It was crowded in the trees of this heronry near Woodville. This picture was before another wave of cattle egrets came swooping in for the night. I am sure there were more than 150 birds, most of the cattle egret, but there was what appeared to be a glossy iris, and another heron that I have not yet identified.

Did I talk about how noisy it was? Every bird to his branch. Except, none of them could decide whose branch belonged to whom, when the tree started getting crowded. There was the sound of flapping winds, and a low whooping sound. On top of that was the squawking over branches.

--steve buser

Woodville, Texas, Egrets, herons

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Camel Kiss coup conked

We were at CampJunction in Beaumont yesterday with the grandkids. Little Sullivan didn't want to go because he had just picked up a MouseTrap game and wanted to go home and play it. But about 20 minutes into the petting zoo visit, he has completely changed his mind-- "I didn't know it was going to be this much fun."

Here, Sophie attempts to lay one on a dromedary, while her Nanny Linda holds her. I am happy to report that the camel shied away at the last second and refused her advances.
--steve buser

camel, zoo, kids, beaumont Texas

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The Golden Second

As we went into Logan's the other night, I noticed a bank of white clouds building in the sky. "It would bea great shot," I thought, but was too lazy to go back to the car for my camera. However, on the way out, my laziness was rewarded (the universe is perverse) when we saw the tops of the clouds, catching that last few seconds of orangish-pink rays -- the sun had already set, sicentists tell us, but old Helios had figured away to curve his arrows and sent them streaming through the highest layers of the sky, ignoring the horizon.

I new I had only a few seconds, so I ran to my car and grabbed my glass eye and started shooting. As pretty as this picture is, it only captures a fragment of the beauty - the rays had already climbed halfway up the bank of clouds -- a blow off from a massive thunderstorm that had formed to the east.

You have heard of the "golden hour" right? This would have to be called the "golden second" -- I only got 5 shots off before the gold was gone and night washed in like a tide covering a beach.

Every once in a while God plays with the scenery to remind us that every second is precious. Most of the time we are too busy to watch and let the meaning sink in.
--steve buser

Clounds, sunset, Beaumont, TexasPowered by ScribeFire.

Part wagon, part future.

If you remember the wheels on this car, you've enjoyed a long life. I bet you have some real stories to tell.

Notice the wood spokes in the wheels. I guess I had seen that before but never paid much attention.

Things have come a long way, haven't they?

I guess the bullet hole decals are someone's idea of authenticity. I would have preferred a 1924 newspaper sitting on the running board or something. Maybe a gramophone in the back seat.

None the less, it is two works of art: the original machine and the hundreds of hours I am sure it took to restore it. The car was at the classic show at Crockett Street in Beaumont this weekend.

--steve buser

Crockett Street, Beaumont, Texas, antique, classic, car

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Surf's up!

Everyone that grew up in the 60's is a surfer, even if they've never touched a board or splashed in the ocean. It was part of what we would now call the "meme" -- the idea of wild and free in the salty spray and the hair-bleaching sun.

This truck at the car show at Crockett Street in Beaumont this past weekend caught the feeling and made it come real again. Notice the old metal Budweiser ice cooler in the back.

Ready for a surfin' safari?
--steve buser

60's., Surfing, classics, Beaumont, Texas

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Lost in the Sixties today

Hey, if this doesn't send you back to the 60's you must not have been born yet. If it does send you back to the60's maybe it will help you remember some of the fun you had but forgot. Did you do the A&W scene? Frosttop? Hoppers?

The 1955 Ford Fairlane witha 472 cu in Cadillac engine was one of the dozens of cars at the show at Crockett Street today (Saturday).

Now how does that go? "Close your eyes baby, ....."
--steve buser

Hot rods, classic cars, Beaumont, Texas

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What kind of garbage is this?

When I went into the store, the big Grackle on the right was wandering around in this pudde on the parking lot. When I came out, he was still there. So, I figured, he wasn't going to go anywhere while I puled my camera out and adjusted it. I was right, of course, he hung around and just periodically checked me out to make sure I was no threat.

Every few minutes the bird on the left would com flying back to the puddle, with treasures in her mouth. She would hand it to her puddle king. He would wash it, chew for a while and give it back to her. This could happen two or three times before each piece was gone.

But this time, she shoved it into the big guy's mouth and he chewed a few times and let it fly. Apparently he likes his garbage well done.

--steve buser

Bird, Grackle, Beaumont, Texas
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