journal archive

10/22
Sunday morning, fetched up some CC's coffee for Ma Wetzel. She was out walking, before church, "Skinny cappuccino? No? What are you trying to do? Kill me?" was her response to the gesture of kindness. Remind me not to attempt to be so nice and dutiful next time. On the flipside was the line at the airport — 45 minutes to check a bag, anther 20 minutes to get to the gate, most of the folks complaining up a storm. But once past all that, the departure lounges — in Dallas, nothing looked different. In Austin, I stopped by the airport Amy's. Ragged from lines and travel, I fished a dollar out of my pocket and fed the tip jar before I ordered anything. Got myself a last scoop of Mexican Vanilla, it sort of overflowed the dish, and collected my baggage.
10/21
I like Dallas, but after a few minutes at the folks' place, I'm about ready to go. What was fun was heading out for a couple of hours [it was Pa Wetzel's birthday] and getting a chance to play with Ma Wetzel's birthday gift [two weeks from now.] There was a point of honor and order with Ma Wetzel, and she admonished me, "God will get you if you do that." In a stage whisper, I suggested that God was being delivered in the form of my mother, to which, she replied, "There's a difference?" Don't you just love a Scorpio? All–knowing, and all powerful.
10/20
Airport again. American Airlines might be advertising bigger seats in Coach, but they don't beat Southwest. The airports all feel a little bit more open, now that security is so tight — but the guy who shined my boots was probably making more money than the security guards, and I think that might be a problem — or not, if you happen to be good at shining boots. Snuck into to Dallas to surprise Pa Wetzel for his birthday. I think it was surprise — he thought I was headed to El Paso sometime, and I am — next week. Going to do the Libra birthday thing all weekend.
10/19
[Rumor update, nobody knows.] I've been sleeping an awful lot since I got home. Since the planets dictate it, I've suspended most of my work for the time being, and with all the sleep, it seems like depression behavior. But I'm not depressed. I had one devil of a time with net access yesterday morning, and it took 40+ minutes to discover that the problem was their server, not me. I was unflappably polite to the tech support person. "That's nice," she said. "Yes, I've done tech support before, I know your pain — it's just too early for me to have any good jokes," I replied. The Tempest. Saw it last night, and rather enjoyed the show. It was a little problematic, what with a Spartan stage, and some attempts to be "hip" with an audio–video version of Ariel [an airy spirit], some pop music that I found discordant, but over all, it was a production I'll remember. I liked the lead Prospero, he seemed less angry than most of the ones I've seen before. I had to stop and think about it, but this must be the third or fourth time I've seen this play produced. And while it lacked a cast of thousands, and there were one too many cute tricks I could've done without, the performances themselves, once it got rolling, rocked right along.
10/18
[Wonder how this will affect astrology?] I looked for Tarot cards while I was in the UK and Netherlands, but found nothing that piqued my interest — I have something like over 50 decks as it is. The one set that's currently sitting on my coffee table evokes the strangest of reactions from clients. One person saw a lot of straight sexual innuendo in the cards while another saw examples of flagrant gender bending. Go figure. Spent the afternoon doing readings. That was good, needed to work some. Nothing feels like home more than a Chicken Fried Steak. The most exciting rumor I found on the web.
10/17
New Rules. Got around to listening to the Cyberdog CD. Pretty good stuff, scored me some sort of DJ — Mix — Techtronica— I don't know — music mix of some kind. Dance/trance stuff. It kept me from wanting to attack various customer service reps as one credit company bounced no less than four checks while I was out of town. Then I popped downtown for delicious "pho," a shine for my travel weary boots, and stopped by to see Bubba to fetch up some tickets for the Tempest. Then I started calling, "Hey darlin', you're the first one on my list, and I've got two tickets Thursday night...." I got three negative responses in a row. Did I mention that Mercury was backwards? And to think, I was calling more than 48 hours in advance, not a typical way to handle this. Yesterday's Jackson Pollock comment reminded me of standing there, in front a real painting, and seeing series of images in the dribbles, and listening to my travel companion make little discoveries inside her own head as she related to the artwork.
10/16
"Hey, that turned out pretty good." Looking over my shoulder for the last leg of travel into Austin, I was framing the various digital snaps I had from the last week's travails. I was working on a nice, long, and thoughtful entry, but I got buried up with work. And after spending almost 24 hours awake and traveling, I was doing good just to roll out of bed. The cat was so glad to see me back home, she parked her lazy backside right next to me head when I slept. Imagine sharing a single pillow with a 30 pound cat. We did see a real Jackson Pollock at the Tate Modern.
10/15
Leaving Amsterdam was an exercise in navigating trains, planes, and automobiles. Well, skip the automobiles part. The way mass–transit public–transportation works in Europe, at least what I've experienced, makes me wonder why more of Texas doesn't do it this way. Took the tram to the center of the city, pounded some coffee, bought that T-shirt, then guessed at a train to take us to the airport. We rolled into London's Heathrow, popped on the Tube, popped off, hiked to the flat, dropped everything, and headed out into the evening. My friend had yet to experience a double decker bus, so we took one as far as St. Paul's and still didn't make it in the cathedral. But we did have one of the ultimate dining experiences at Tamarind. We joked about going back to the Hard Rock Cafe, but eating there again would sort of be a waste, we'd hit the original in London late one night, then one of the branches on the other afternoon in Amsterdam... besides, we had yet to experience Indian food in London. Might not be a better place than Tamarind. "Classic dishes of contemporary India, in the heart of Mayfair." Yeah, whatever. Really good, slightly under–done scallops for an appetizer. Then "John Dory" [who is John Dory and why are fish named after him?] pan–fried with spices and spinach, some King Prawn Kebabs, and finally, bitter espresso, pistachio ice cream, and carrot fudge. The spices were hot enough to make her nose run a little, and she kept exclaiming about how the taste combinations were so different. Hot curry, or hot something, and cool mint. Three varieties of chutney. Ice cream that wasn't too sweet. It was, simply put, one of those amazing meals, and a fine way to wrap a week over yonder. I snagged a menu, planning on naming the foodstuffs by name, but I couldn't bring myself to type the names, much less pronounce them. Airports and home to the hysteria.
10/13–14
Bach tocato en fugue D minor (faking it on that title) but it did come on as I descended into the basement of one place www.absolutedanny.com. "Come on in — you'll learn something," the barker taunted us. " I could show you a thing or two myself," my friend replied. Yeah, right. She probably could. What a strange leap in reality from what London was like. Famous for its "coffee shops," the smoke is lost on me, but the familiar aroma of skunk wafted through the narrow, cobblestone streets. Amsterdam has the cutest trams. I don't know what else to call them, it's a little, narrow gauge train or bus or something that runs through town. Once you get the routes figured out, and the ticketing system, it's pretty cool. Wandering around the red light district, I saw a particular female form, thought about it, circled back to do the proper tourist thing — and there she was, swaying to the music, looking provocative, and picking her nose. Sort of kills that idea. Professional or a T–shirt? The shirts were cheaper and probably last longer — although, not that much less expensive. "Hey, why you do that?" asked the Rastafarian looking station attendant, "you make expensive mistake." "Because I'm a tourist?" I answered. See, Amsterdam has this really cool light rail. But after riding the Tube, the Dutch honor system tickets were a bit odd. I started stamping mine from the bottom — apparently that's not the accepted practice. I suppose that's the problem with not smoking dope — it's like going to Disneyland and not going on Space Mountain. Or whatever that ride is called. It was the knocker that my friend found [that comment is wide open], down one of the side streets, a lion with a huge tonguie for the piece that moves.
10/12
"When a Texan fancies he'll take his chances, chances will be taken...." [Lips from the Tate Gallery, about the third floor.] And then there's a line about Marble Arch Station. I dragged my friend down to Marble Arch Station, just to get a picture. That was it. But the trip was only fair — I was waiting outside the women's fitting room for more than hour. "I can't believe they have pretty ones in my size." Don't even think about asking. Another gentleman was waiting on his girlfriend, and I opined that it's hard to look even remotely macho while waiting outside the fitting room, clutching packages. Then, I mentioned, "And she's not even my girlfriend or anything." In a polite, clipped British twang, "Arright. Sure, whatever you say." Some battles are best left unfought. Jet lag mornings come mighty early — off to the Continent for the weekend.
10/11
One of the greatest attributes of the British is their wonderful sense of the absurd. Went to the Millennium Dome, was sorely disappointed to find it closed. But the tube station out there was cool. As was the Tower of London, High Tea at Harrods, and late night book shopping not far from Piccadilly Circus. From the Capricorn files: "I think the coolest thing about the Tower of London was the toilets. Looks a lot like a modern–day porta–potty." I think the ones in the Tower, though, had a better view.
10/10
We spent an afternoon jumping from one wrong tube to another, Mercury is retrograde, getting bumped and jostled during "rush hour." I'm sure our conversation about "deep fried turkey" amused a couple of ladies standing near us. We were wandering back from Camden Town, headed for Piccadilly Circus [Northern Line was a bit confusing for us.] While up there, at Chalk Farm, we came across a cyberpunk emporium, and a couple of modern Goth stores. Sort of amazing — in a centuries old marketplace. I had to ask about the music at Cyberdog. "You're from America, right?" The clerk was dressed in leather pants, sleeveless leather jacket, studs in his lower lip, six–inch heels on his biker boots, and long lime-green dreads done in a mohawk. I bought the CD. On the way to the theater, we passed the first bagpipe player I've heard since I was in the parking lot for a Tex–Mex restaurant back in Texas. For the evening's fare, we got to see the critically acclaimed [and rightfully so], stage production of The Graduate [with Linda Gray as Mrs. Robinson.] "My mother wouldn't let me go see it," my friend told me. Funny thing, neither would my mother. Having no baseline movie reference just served to heighten the experience. Excellent stage show, only enhanced by two things: strong supporting actors, and some trivia from the guy selling ice cream at the half-time: "Yes, you see, Linda Gray's legs were the legs used to model for the movie's promotional shots. She was an unknown model at the time, before Dallas, you know." Hard Rock [since 1971] for a late dinner.
10/9
Note: whining and complaining is not allowed this week. This e–mail connection costs extra, and frankly, between jet–lag and current events, I'm not much in the mood to spend my precious online time answering complaints. War, rumors of war, and the Union Jack... tourism: Westminster Abbey, Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, the National Gallery, and back to Covent Garden. It was outside Buckingham Palace, we asked two female cops for directions,"We're not from around here, we can't tell you — we just got called on for this extra duty. But there's a map here, and we must be right about here...." Plenty of friendly looking cops around, that's for sure. Meandering onward, we'd just stopped at a Nero's [Nero's tag line: The best Espresso this side of Milan"], and a Starbucks [for that Cap] and clutching our precious cups of coffee we wandered into the National Gallery. [I won't record how she kept trying to mispronounce Trafalgar], we tried to ditch our empty cups. "The trash bin is outside," the security guy said. Didn't make sense, until we thought about it. I whipped out my Handspring to make a quick note while in Westminster [Dylan Thomas, Scorpio], seeing the camera still in, I snapped a shot of the ceiling, where the Nave and the Transept crossed. Somehow, the picture doesn't evoke the soaring columns as they reach for the heavens.
10/8
The biggest challenge with "spit and post" journal entries is making something coherent — after a transatlantic flight, not much is. I walked down to Piccadilly Circus, took in the sights, wandered back via Jermyn Street, noted that one arcade had a Starbucks at both ends, less than 50 meters apart, and opted not to patronize such a universal business — if I'm going to a Starbucks, it's the one that Leo works at. So the big adventure was my friend's goal, a special fashion show. Not much can be said, except that the best sign I saw claimed, "All vibrators include free batteries." Afterwards, we stopped by the Doc Marten's shoe store in Covent Garden, right at closing time. I idled up next an employee guarding the door, and in my best Texas drawl, asked about a restaurant recommendation. When asked what kind, I just implied very spicy. "Wagamama — it's a chain, but like, it's really good." It was. I got a an extra thrill out of the high–tech ordering system, the waitress keyed our order in a handheld unit, which then sent the order to the open kitchen, and everything was delivered piping hot. Perfect for cold, rainy Sunday night in London. Got home to find the news full of a familiar sight, a lot of firearms going off in the night sky, someplace in the Mid–East.
10/7
Searched in Austin. "You're not embarrassed by my wearing this hat, are you?" "Dude," she reminded me, "I bought that hat for you." Talking about shopping, and with apologies to Shakespeare, "It out Harrods Harrods." [Famous London department store.] Got here just fine. Nothing like spending 24 hours in transit. Or so it seems. The picutre is a red headed Capricorn demonstrating a "talking box," and I seriously doubt the picture will remain in the archives long. It's what happens when you have a few hours of layover time in a place like Chicago's airport. What didn't get recorded was feeding the box cheese and chocolate. Now — I've got a funny feeling my biological clock, the weather, and everything else, is fixing to set me up for a long night's rest.
10/6
[Too cool, via slashdot: missile silo for sale.] Note about Ma Wetzel [Scorpio]: she was fearless when she was over in the UK last week, but she's worried sick about me being there. One would suppose, that's just a typical family idiosyncrasy. "Do as I say, not as I do." Airports, international travel, and hopefully wake up in the teeming center of the world [next to Texas]: London, England. What a grand old dame. Love that town. Went to a party last night, a belated Libra birthday party. Interesting mix of folks. Late in the evening, my Aquarius [Ms. Right of First Refusal] friend was sitting on one side, a Scorpio girl was on my other side, and one of the cats was purring in my lap. The Scorpio girl, knowing I'm an astrologer, looks at me, and says, "Go ahead, pull it out, whip out your magic." Needless to say, it was the first [only] blush of the day.
10/5
Funny thing about being in the radio studio, Janice's control room was one pane of glass away from us. I was prepared, too, as I handed her a couple of free drink coupons for Texpresso, since I won't be in a place to use them any time too soon. It's also strange to be on the hike and bike trail [most convenient route home from the station] at an hour when everyone else seems to ripple instead of wiggle. I like us wigglers better. And living in a trailer park means I'm exposed to variety of people. One of the grouchy old men who lives near by was asking me about another resident — as we were all doing laundry about the same time. "Shaved head with one, bright pink strand in the front — that person had a nose ring," he observed, "and that musician's girlfriend — she's got a thing through her tongue, also." I just nodded, seemed kind of normal to me. Dinner: granola bar and a Slim Jim. The problem with a Slim Jim is the amount of flossing I have to do afterwards — dig all them miscellaneous animal parts out from between my teeth.
10/4
Downtown Austin has a forlorn quality to it now — "this space for lease" banners adorn most buildings. Looks like this. Yesterday morning was all out of sorts — nothing worked right. Cleared a few miles around the trail, stopped at the office long enough to see a Leo. Picked up the last check due from iVillage/Astronet. That was a nightmare, trying to collect money from them. The handler I worked with out and out lied to me on several occasions, going back as far as several years ago. For some reason, that was bugging my psyche yesterday. Up before the sun for the morning show. [Not sure I like this aspect of being on the radio.]
10/3
"Welcome to my room with a view; I hope you stay for a while...." [Vallejo] Yesterday afternoon, from noon to midnight, for one 12–hour period, I was completely current with all work assignments. Monday morning, I got 'ping' flooded. I suppose this is one for the Mercury Tales, but I thought I had until the 4th. Looks like yesterday was the day. Fielded a quick call about astrology — except it made the concept of astronomy [science] necessary as a component of astrology in order to answer the question in a succinct manner. Can't just rattle off junk about planets if one doesn't understand the basic physics of the planets. Did business all afternoon — not the fun kind — been meaning to close one bank account [my Bank One consistently lost deposits made in the local branch's lobby], and got some more paperwork turned in for a refinance deal. "Astrofish.net — is that, like, astrology?" From the family files: my Gemini sister called last night, we chatted, then I gave her an astrological sketch of the next few weeks, Saturn, Mercury backwards, culminating, three weeks from now, with Mars moving into Aquarius. "Well, I could've told you Mercury was retrograde, and I'm glad next week will be better." I had to repeat myself, "Three weeks, Sister." "I'm glad to hear that next week will be better," she replied. Nice to know that denial still runs deep within my familial structure.
10/2
My buddy, the FedEx guy almost took the trailer's door off its hinges. "Man, I thought you'd be up by now." [It was before 8 AM, and the package wasn't even for me — just flight upgrade stuff for my traveling buddy.] From Monday's mail bag:
> you sent me to Henry V through the
> link "dogs of war". Dude, cesar is
> spinning in his shroud.
Why did I do it like that? My humor [goes better with tequila] and because I like Henry V better. It wasn't an annotated quote. Historically, Henry V's battle at Agincourt set the tone for modern battles — a form that's been followed for close to 800 years. Only seems more appropriate these days —
10/1
From the "Timing is everything" department: the weekly scopes are set to go up whenever I darn well feel like posting them. I've been shooting for a little after midnight local time. Problem: this makes it about 6 or 7 in the morning in Europe, Monday morning. Worse, it makes it only about 10 on Sunday might on the Left Coast. When AOL handled it all, that was great — 11:00 PM, Sunday night, my time. One webmaster I worked with was very punctual, between 2:00 and 3:00 AM, every Monday morning [Sunday night to me]. Useless end–of–the–month facts — received: 3297 e–mails, answered approximately 1/3 of them. That average is about 100 incoming messages per day. The milling throngs were thick on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon at the Pecan Street Fair. All I wanted was a walking stick, one of those Bodark ones I found. What do you get for man who's got everything? Heard this from a friend: "If I ever try to date another Taurus, will you do an astrological intervention?" Gemini [third from the left] grabbed me for some late dinner, trying to get on a new schedule with her current love–interest. Seems the most recent one is a night owl. After a couple of drinks, judging from her laughter, my jokes got funnier. New tag line: Tequila improves Kramer's humor.
9/30
Pecan Street Fair. For various reasons, I've missed this event the last couple of seasons. One of my friends calls all the stuff for sale nothing more than "great dust collectors." Every time I go, I keep expecting to make that one, great find, some sort of retail Grail, and I'm usually let down. Many years ago, a couple of girls from Corpus Christi had a booth full of jewelry made from old fishing lures. That was a find. Only thing I came across that was remotely different and interesting was guy with hand–made canes, perfect for Pa Wetzel. Except, most of the walking sticks all looked the same, until I started to fondle a Texas–special: Bodark. [Bois d'Arc.] I joined my "army" buddies and introduced the Pisces to them for dinner last night. One of the guys was wearing his kilt. After eating, and discussing current events — still fishing for a military point of view — we adjourned to the parking lot for a brief bagpipe demonstration. Scottish Highland music in the parking lot of a Mexican Restaurant. Mars twinkling on and off in the sky. It's now Sunday morning, I've slept on it. I'm still not sure if it's the right gift, but trying to get anything for Pa Wetzel is increasingly difficult these days. Bodark is strong stuff.
9/29
Yesterday morning, two calls from Gemini–land before 9:00 AM. Wonder if this is another one of them trends? Moon was in Aquarius. Then I got a call from my old military school buddy, and another one of the former cadets was in town, so we hooked up for some BBQ and hours of old stories as well as new tales. Me, I never went into real military service, but my two friends both did. One was/is a Marine MP. The other is now a Major in active reserves. After my last trip out west, we were all in total agreement about how pretty portions of West Texas are. Mr. Major and I also agreed about West Texas women — he's married to one. But both my friends are rather clean–cut looking, and that makes for an interesting trio, with me looking very much like myself in shorts and tattered T with a phone/PDA sticking out of one pocket, long hair all scraggly and unkempt from driving around with the truck's windows down, wearing a Las Vegas "Pink Taco" cap [gift from that Cap — a cap from a Cap.] "When we were out on a training exercise, they told us we were about a mile from where that plane crashed — that's what they told us, back then," one them said, referring to the now–famous Roswell UFO Event. Me? I recall nothing. "We had to be dressed and ready for breakfast at 6:10 AM, then another inspection at 7:20, right?" What I really wanted was a military low–down on current events. "I'm medical, if I get called up, there's going to be a lot of injuries — or problems in...." I think I enjoyed the story about him wearing a kilt for the first time a lot better. His West Texas wife called it a skirt. "Men don't wear skirts." End of that discussion.
9/28
History. More opinion. I've got a ton of work, I just don't feel up to it. Cold mornings. I'd rather be asleep with the cat wrapped around my feet or head. Good conclusion. There's a reason why I mostly walk alone — I'm never quite sure of my destination. I was aiming for the office, took a left when I should've gone right, and missed my target mileage of 7 miles — shy by one–tenth. I did manage to work in some BBQ; however, I'm unsure if that's adequate compensation. Or even a good excuse. For a little while, during the afternoon ramble, all was right in my world. Shadows were cool, not a cloud in the sky, sun was warm, the brisket was tender. Blue Morning Glories were bright in the afternoon sun, interspresed with very pale Glories, creating a dappled effect. One of the items I picked up while wandering around town was a new belt buckle. My usual, license–plate, Texas–sized chunk of metal might present a problem with European security.
9/27
Hardware dreams. It has nothing to do with current events. Nothing that's actually useful for me — just cool hardware. I had to meet a client at Threadgill's for a late lunch and reading, then it was such a nice day, the trail beckoned to me. I wandered towards downtown, hit a bookstore and followed the Sag's suggestion for a novel, stuck it in my pocket. Then it was off towards Whole Earth Provision Co., to stock up on a few items for the next trip. Found an electrical plug converter for less than $5. Next, I stumbled across some [mystery thing] that Sister likes, and to make the score better, they were on sale. By then, it was close to rush hour — as I walked along the edge of Lamar, heading south, I passed cars inching forward. In particular, one passenger guffawed when I passed them for a third time. Instead of beating them to the river, though, I stopped at Amy's for ice cream. Peanut Butter was one of the daily flavors, I got it mixed with Mexican Vanilla [a personal favorite]. Only, I ordered a small, and while it fit in a small cup, it pretty much looked like a large. Tipped the scooper an extra buck. So I was wandering alongside Lamar, marveling at the traffic, and probably moving faster than most, when I saw another one of those things that boggles my mind. One guy in a truck was letting another car cut in front of him — random act of kindness — while the guy behind him [suit, Lexus, phone in hand] was wildly gesturing and honking. To make this more bizarre, the cars then moved about 50 feet forward and all stopped at a light, a long line of traffic waiting to turn. In other words, the random kindness didn't interfere at all with the forward progress of the idiot making the scene. I had to resist going over and asking him why he had an American flag displayed when he was being such a jerk.
9/26
> sign: Scorpio
> TalkToKramer: Hey sport, time to take your flag
> to full staff. If you can't get it up, I'll send
> someone over to help, please have a towel handy.
Nice to have friendly reminders. Writing upbeat and positive horoscopes has been a real chore lately. West Textures helped clear my mind a little, but it just made me like remote, far off places that much more. Walked some, loved the cool afternoon breeze and the not–so–blistering sunlight. Ate a little sushi with that Pisces. Discussed rumors, media treatment, and various other topics. Finally got around to packing for the much abbreviated European trip. As it stands right now, my traveling buddy is already upgraded for Business class going over — but she got the last available seat. I'm still stuck in the cattle section of the plane.
9/25
Media shock. Road shock. Home again. Treasures from my suitcase: Perfect pocket knife. "We walking today?" "Yeah, around Sam's," was my answer. I needed to augment my 43 cans of chili — just something for a variation, more than anything else. Then it was off to Hula Hut. I once promised a particular female client a "peak sexual experience" sometime in her immediate future, if I recall the prediction [it was in her chart]. "I didn't think it would be Tres Leches," was her reply, "but it was that good." So after tiresome grocery shopping in bulk, and the usual Tex-Mex Polynesian food at "the hut," it was time for that peak sexual experience. Tres Leches is a Mexican dish, a cream cake soaked in rich cream, and this one had fresh strawberries and a splash of caramel sauce, dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon. One order, and no, we didn't finish it — it almost finished us.
9/24
Airline travel has never been nicer — everything's a little less crowded. I got home to a placid cat, a stack of mail, and tons of work. Being without e–mail for about 48 hours was ever so refreshing. Don't know how the current events will work out, but I loved my trip — there's a magic triangle formed by Ft. Davis, Alpine and Marfa. Add the mysterious appeal of Marathon in there, too, a little out of the way. Between 1901 and 1930, four hotels were built by various concerns. Funniest thing, all four of the hotels were supposedly "The Best Hotel between El Paso and San Antonio...." I suspect they all had the same press agent, it was the exact same wording. Listen to the ghosts. Marfa [Paisano Hotel], Ft. Davis [Limpia Hotel], Alpine [Holland Hotel] and, of course, Marathon [Gage Hotel].
9/23
Luck with the Marfa Lights was sort of there. Luck with the phone lines was not — imagine, places in Texas where cell [digital data whatever] don't work. Apparently, Austin is a bird sanctuary— and one hotel along the river's edge uses recorded hawk cries to keep the blackbird [Mexican Grackle] population out of their landscape. Saw hawks on several occasions on this trip, but the one sighting that was best occurred Saturday afternoon, on a lonesome stretch of highway, halfway from nowhere to nothing. It was the backside of the Davis Mountains, the alluvial plain interrupted by little outcrops of really old lava flows, and the recent rains made the desert floor a little more lush, with various shades of spring–like green. We got used to seeing a hawk sitting on a fence post. But that afternoon, there were four of them, apparently playing a game of grab and chase. Pull the car over, all pile out, grab cameras, and then listen to the cry of one of them — positive aural proof that they were hawk. One seemed to have some game in his [her] clutches, and another one was trying to wrestle it away, in the middle of the air. Looked more like juvenile hawks, playing tag —in midair. Stopping at the Marfa Book store, I tried to identify the hawks. Maybe Red Tail, maybe rarer Trans–Pecos only, Zone Tail. Definitely hawks, by the sound of it. Also saw, I think, some other big bird of prey, black hawk?
9/22
Luck with the weather is holding out — brilliant, clear morning, heavy–duty rain thunderstorms sweeping through in the afternoon, once again, creating the oddest of sights.... A dust devil and rain, across the alluvial plain between two mountain ranges. I think that was just after Piasano Pass, but I'm not sure. We checked out the Marfa Light Viewing area, and after dinner at Reatta Restaurant in Alpine, we wound our way back to the Lights. Holds up with my idea [amateur theory] about the Marfa Mystery Lights being a form of St. Elmo's Fire [static electric discharge] because the Mystery Lights were fantastic. Dancing and prancing, brilliant and all over the place. I counted about seven lights, all at once. At the behest of my fellow traveler, I drove down a dirt road [Nopal Road], and we continued to observe the Lights. I've been here a half dozen times, and the lights have never performed better.