Bluebonnets and Big Cracks

Early Sunday morning Mr. Wizard and I packed up coffee, water and zucchini bread (thank you, Annie!), and headed out to Big Bend National Park to explore and look for bluebonnets.

We drove down Old Maverick Road to Terlingua Abajo, an old farming settlement on Terlingua Creek just above the mouth of Santa Elena Canyon, hoping to spot some early bloomers there where we've found some in past years. No luck. So we headed westward on FM 170 (the River Road) from Study Butte past the ghost town and Lajitas and into Big Bend Ranch State Park.

Eureka! There were bluebonnets! Not many yet, and most of them were small and scraggly, but after I wandered off the road a ways near the hoodoos, I found a few that were close to two feet tall, but not many.

We haven't had any rainfall to speak of since September, so we were glad there were any at all. The flowers we did find were probably due to the Rio's September flood, when the roadside got a good soaking.

Long before we moved to the Big Bend, I came out here many Februarys just for the bluebonnets. I'm a sucker for 'em.

Along the River Road, there were other desert flowers blooming, too, welcome little splashes of color dotted an otherwise mostly brown and gold roadside, a reminder that we're presently under a burn ban.

And then as we were crossing Contrabando Creek just past the riverside movie set with its little buildings and facades, I shrieked, "Stop!" and Mr. W cheerfully obliged by pulling off the road. The cracks in the dried mud/sand below looked like a giant gray patchwork crazy quilt stretching down toward the Rio Grande.


I climbed down into the creekbed and the cracks in the dried mud were HUGE. And DEEP. I dropped a rock down a crack and heard it hit bottom way down there.

The cracks are impressive at this view, but even more so when I stuck my foot out for some perspective.


Okay, now you have a better idea of how scary it was to walk out on the creekbed. It felt almost like jumping from tiny island to island, or little iceberg to iceberg. It was a surreal feeling to stand in the middle of the creekbed, in the middle of a giant natural mosaic.

And while I stood there, feeling all overwhelmed and happy, I caught sight of a mountain lion making her way across the highway toward the river. Although I've seen many tracks in the three years I've lived in the Bend, I've not seen an actual mountain lion, so I was very, very excited. And even though my camera was in my hand, I never even thought about trying to snap a picture. I just stood there paralyzed by all the beauty around me and watched her (him?) disappear from sight. It was a magical moment.

Life is good.