Tonight I sat outside as the sun went down, taking in the live oak trees shedding their small oval leaves and watching the screech owl poke his head out of the box. The moon was already up and almost full, an appropriate way to end the year.

A Swainson’s thrush has been visiting our backyard. These birds typically migrate through in September and October on their way to South America and are seen more often in eastern Texas, so we are lucky to see him. He’s been here a few weeks and seems to like our pond.

The male screech owl showed up on Halloween, peeking out of the owl box entrance just as it became dark. It’s a relief to finally see him; I have been waiting and wondering when – and if – he would appear. Each evening he pokes his head out about 5 p.m., preparing to take flight and leaving around 6 p.m., soaring over the fence and into the trees.

After a long, hot Texas summer with no swimming pools to cool us, we were ready to go somewhere. Anywhere. So, in this year without Yellowstone, there was Ruidoso, our escape from real life.

We finally saw the black fawn as we rode our bikes through the neighborhood. She was grazing in a corner yard shielded by tall oaks and plants with another fawn, a buck, and a doe, who must be her mother.

McKinney Roughs Sunday, August 9, 2020            Summer’s heat has seeped into Central Texas, [...]

When we first built the pond and waterfall in the backyard I thought it would be a lovely feature that would add to the backyard landscape, making it more interesting, allowing us to feel like we lived far away from the city. What I didn’t realize was how much life the pond would bring to this little patch of land.

The doe crosses our lawn in the middle of the hot afternoon. Her fawn rushes ahead of her, turning the corner around the fence, suddenly out of view. She stops and waits, staring toward a place we can’t see, then bends her head to the grass.

Each night we walk through the neighborhood searching for does and fawns. The evenings are the best time, walking just as darkness falls when a strong breeze makes it feel cooler than it actually is. This spring we’ve been particularly lucky, beginning with the doe and fawn we saw on May 30.

While walking Daisy, we suddenly spotted a mound of golden brown, covered with white spots lying still in the tall grass; our first fawn of the season, curled up in the middle of a neighbor’s lawn.