Susan's Hill Country Journal

April 5. An amazing sight this morning—sixty-plus cormorants roosting on the Heron Tree in the middle of the lake. The Heron Tree is a huge oak tree, probably a couple of hundred years old, that was, sadly, swamped and drowned when the lake was built back in the 60s. But the birds love it, and this morning, I was astonished to see that every branch was filled with the big, black cormorants, migrating north. I stood and watched them for a while, trying to count them. I had just gotten to sixty when one of the dogs spooked them. They dropped from the tree into the water—these are diving birds, as much at home under water as in the air—and then flew away, with their funny running, flapping take-off. In a moment, there was a loose skein of birds trailing across the sky, heading north, and then they were gone.

April 11. April is always a catch-up month for me, when I have time to finally do some housecleaning and a little more garden work—and some writing of a different sort, other than mysteries or garden writing, I mean. I spent yesterday working on an article on letter writing for the magazine Horizons, which is published by the Presbyterian Women’s organization. Today, I’m doing some last-minute polishing on a collection of women’s stories that is being published for Story Circle by the University of Texas Press. And tomorrow, I’m going to start work on the next issue of the Story Circle Journal. One of the nicest things about the writing life is the freedom it gives me to follow my interests, my passions—to follow my bliss, as Joseph Campbell put it.

April 16. Another nice thing about the writing life is the opportunity that Bill and I are given to meet readers. Last weekend, we flew to Anaheim, California to be on a panel with another mystery writer for a Friends of the Library luncheon. Flying isn’t lots of fun (the flight was stalled in Dallas by a thunderstorm, and there were the inevitable security lines at both ends), but we enjoyed meeting so many interesting people, and so many who had actually read our books! We stayed in a nice hotel, had some great food, and felt generally lazy and privileged. It’s good to be home again, though—and of course the dogs and the cat were ecstatic. They had to spend the weekend in the kennel, which is not exactly their idea of heaven.

April 22. But we made it all up to the dogs yesterday, at the First Annual Labrador Rescue Picnic—held yesterday afternoon at our place beside the lake. (In case you’re tuning in late, a few years ago we bought 17 acres adjacent to our 14 acres. The "new" land includes a nice little house that we use as a guest house and a beach area on the lake.) Seventy people signed up for the picnic—people who had adopted Labs in the last couple of years, from the Heart of Texas Lab Rescue Association. We’re not quite sure how many folks came—although at one point we counted 37 dogs! That’s a lot of dogs in anybody’s book, but since Labs are so remarkably gentle and well-behaved, everybody got along just fine. The dogs loved the water, big time, and there was lots of splashing and swimming and stick-chasing and romping, until we humans were so tired we could barely stand. Not the dogs, of course. Their tongues may be hanging out, but they’re always ready for more.

April 24. It may be April, but the thermometer says that summer is here, and all the summer-time creatures. Bill and I were taking a break this afternoon when we spotted a four-foot bull snake draped across the rocking chair on the front porch, within a dozen feet of the flycatcher’s nest and four baby birds. Rising to the task, Bill fetched a rake and deftly snagged snagged the snake (better him than me), while I dashed for my camera to take a picture. (The hand is Bill’s. Isn’t he brave? Bull snakes aren’t toxic, but they do have needle-sharp fangs.) The snake got to spend the day in a garbage can (clean), before being employed as the subject in a bit of snake-avoidance training. Zach is already snake-proof, having been trained with a dead rattlesnake. Lady showed no interest in the snake, but not much fear of it, either, unfortunately. (We hope she’ll keep a healthy distance from any she might encounter, but the dogs spend a lot of time outdoors with her nose to the ground, and we’re never sure what they might turn up.) The snake, none the worse for his starring role in pictures and a nice long snooze in a garbage can, was last seen slithering swiftly toward the woods.

April 30.

The flycatchers, four of them, hatched and fledged and yesterday flew away. The bluebonnets are almost gone too, but Shadow—the black kitty who recently adopted us—enjoys an early morning game among the blossoms. Here she is, our green-eyed beauty, about to pounce on a hapless grasshopper. And here is another green-eyed beauty, the Stella d’Oro daylily, blooming proudly beside the creek in the dawn’s early light. Never mind that the temperature is slated to reach 95 today, and what I have scheduled is a pitcher of iced tea and a good book. The hotter the better, as far as the daylilies are concerned!