An Easter Sunday drive

Yesterday, my host and I drove a few miles to San Angelo State Park to see what West Texas looks like when it’s not tilled into cotton fields or punctured by oil rigs or paved over with WalMart SuperCenters and Whataburgers.

It’s not spectacular compared to other places I’ve seen in my short travels — mostly mesquite trees and prickly pear cactus, sprinkled liberally between the numerous campsites and their RVs.

Then we pulled up to a boat ramp that led ironically to a large, dry lake. O.C. Fisher Lake, on the map, is blue and full of water. But a years’ long drought has completely dried it up. According to Wikipedia, it’s a reservoir created in 1952 when the U.S. Corps of Engineers dammed the North Concho River, which is now itself nearly dry.

But the huge marsh left behind is verdant and beautiful, and as we drove away a voice in my head kept yelling, “Go back! Take a photo for the blog!” But I didn’t, and now I am kicking myself.

Here is a photo I did get… buffalo! At least I thought they were real buffalo when I screeched to a stop and rummaged in the back of the van for my camera. Turns out they were not real. I have no idea who put them there, or why. Oh, well.

Buffalo! Or so I thought.

Fake buffalo in San Angelo State Park, Texas

On the way to the park, I saw several actual longhorn cattle ambling along the side of the road. I was excited beyond reason — I had never seen longhorns IRL before (Look at those horns! But the calves look just like regular calves!) I promised myself I would stop and take pictures on our return, but they were gone by the time we got back. Again: kicking self.

Oh, and the buzzards! Yes, there are buzzards everywhere, circling overhead, presumably waiting for some poor creature to die before they swoop in to feast. Must be a lot of dying animals around here. And yet: no photos.

I am a poor excuse for a blogger. But at least I got a shot of those buffalo.