“Diving ducks!” we cried as sleek, streamlined black cormorants seamlessly slipped beneath resaca waters behind our Brownsville apartment complex. Moving from Indiana in the ‘80s
Author: M. Kathy Raines
Hundreds of massive black shadows patterned the frond-strewn pathways at Sabal Palm Wildlife Sanctuary one winter’s midday. A loud crinkly crunch heralded their heavy plopping
Iced confections spring to mind when I view clumps of wintering white pelicans resting and preening on a sandbank in the Laguna Madre—long carrot-colored bills
Under the halo of my flashlight, tiny specks of greenish glitter— like shiny dewdrops—dotted my scraggly nighttime lawn, each sparkle alerting me to a wolf spider hunting in the grassy, weedy soil.
Like an actor parting the curtains, a Texas tortoise took the stage from behind foliage near the visitors’ center at Palo Alto Battlefield one steaming August day, its curvy forelegs pigeon-toed, its back ones, elephantine.
This wide-eyed thrush—pot-belled, brown-spotted and robin-like in posture—traipsed among eager photographers at the South Padre Island Convention Center one October. It, like other migrants resting and refueling during their southward journey, looked weary.