The wildlife preserve is on massive Lake Texoma, which spans two states. They grow grains and millet there for thousands upon thousands of migratory birds--ducks, geese, cormorants, and herons. We hiked on little used trails for an hour and a half, seeing three great blue herons, one white heron fighting nobly to fish in a strong wind, numerous crows, scissortail flycatchers, and worlds of butterflies. I saw sunfish in shallows, and a snapping turtle duck underwater. We saw many wildflowers, and tons of small, leafy trees. I had to pause for a moment, when mating bumblebees appropriated the nearby airspace.
I took pictures of all sorts of things, with a 39 picture throwaway camera. I could post them here, but lately I think about how nice snail mail can be. I like to staple actual snaps to little corruplast postcards or to card stock. None of the snaps are particularly revelatory--they are little little slices of our hike and drive--a snippet of tree here, a dash of water there (I am assuming, of course, that Walgreen's will develop them capably). Rather than post them in my journal, I thought it might be fun to make this into a kind of mail art project; a "reverse call", if you will, in which photos, like mathoms, are mailed by the celebrant. I may have to replenish my corruplast card stock, but I'll figure out a way to make do with something else if I run out of plastic. I may even resort to the old-fashioned envelope.
If you'd like a dash of remote rural north Texas, please give me your address in the following space. I think it's nice sometimes to get mail, even if the mail is but a curious photo on a cheap camera, taken in the wilds of Texas. I know that I have some of your addresses already, but it's a bit more convenient if you write them here, in this space which only I see, so that I can print out the addressees with one magic command.
If you would like me to mail you a card to which I've attached a picture taken at the Hagerman Wildlife Reserve, please set your address here. Feel free to use work addresses or the like, as I'm not concerned with where you live, but instead with showing your eyes what ours have seen.