That famous little yellow bird...

Late last winter, I was greeting visitors at the county Park I work at in far western Travis county. A gentleman drove up in a late model hatchback with out-of-state plates. I noticed a pair of binoculars and a new copy of a 'Texas Birds" book on his dash. "Good morning sir, have you been here before?" I cheerfully said to one the first visitors of the day. "Naw, just came to see that famous bird. Where can I find it?" I had to think for a minute, because spring migration hadn't started yet, and there was nothing really of special interest to see right now, as far as birds go. "Um, do you mean the Golden-Cheeked Warbler? I don't know if they've arrived yet", trying to sound a bit unsure as to not let him down. "Yeah, Yeah, that yella' wobbler! Where can I see it? he said enthusiastically, obviously not catching the hint. (sigh. oh well....) " Yes sir, just go to the far end of the parking lot. Take the bluff trail down a few hundred yards, take a left at the landing, follow the creek 'bout a quarter mile, then be on the lookout for a big stand of oaks on your right, creekside, and start looking", I replied with authority. After all, I was in uniform. (a uniform adorned with the likeness of a golden cheeked warbler nonetheless) "Thanks so much" he said earnestly, as if he had just received some top secret insider information. I shouted a "Good luck!" after him, knowing full well he was too early in the season. Was he a serious birder? Maybe. Was he a beginner birder? Definitely. But it didn't really matter. This fellow was going to have an adventure trying to spot one of the rarest songbirds in North America.

People travel far and wide to catch a glimpse of the Golden Cheeked Warbler, a beautiful, small, yellow songbird streaked with black, that arrives in the Hill Country of Texas in early to mid March. Texas can boast, amongst other things, of having more bird species than any other state in North America, nearly 600. The sheer size of the state, 275,416 square miles, contributes to this biological diversity. And many birds that are sighted in Texas occur nowhere else in the nation thus prompting bird watchers from around the world to 'flock' to see them. Not only do many warm weather species nest in the Lone Star State but north-bound ones also pass through on their long migration flight. Many of these birds just remain for the winter (like a lot of my friends it seems!) before heading back to cooler climes as the oppressive Texas heat takes hold. The birds of Texas change with the seasons.

So back to our little 'famous' bird....
Several things make the Golden Cheeked Warbler special. Of the 360 bird species that breed in Texas, the warbler is the only one to nest exclusively in central Texas, more specifically in stands of mixed old growth Ashe Juniper (known as cedar 'round here) and oak woodlands(live oak, red oak, shin oak and lacey oak) on the Edwards Plateau. This selective type of behavior labels our little warbler a 'habitat specialist'. (which sounds more like a wildlife biologist than a 'picky little bird') These forests MUST be mature because the female utilizes the long, stringy bark of the Ashe Juniper to weave her nest. And by mature I mean the ashe juniper needs to be at least 17 feet in height and the oaks over 20 feet. For whatever reason, the bark of young cedar is not suitable for the female warbler. After meticulously weaving this nest she will bind it with bits of spider webs and line it with fur, feathers or grasses she finds, to cushion the 3-4 speckled eggs she will lay.

If you haven't caught on yet, the habitat I'm describing sure sounds quite a bit like Rockmoor. Well Sherlock, you would be correct to assume that Rockmoor IS ideal habitat for this little yellow warbler. So if I asked, "Does anyone know what animal at Rockmoor has something in common with a Giant Panda? Anyone? (and it's not a raccoon) If you said, the Golden Cheeked Warbler, you would be correct! They are both listed on the "Endangered Species" list. To put that in perspective, they are lower on the list than say, the Mountain Gorilla which is listed as 'critically endangered'. But higher than the Polar Bear, which has only attained 'vulnerable' status. (sorry Frosty-but don't worry, if us humans keep running the show you'll be there soon enough)

So what is an Endangered Species? By definition, it is "a population of organisms which is at risk of becoming extinct because it is either few in numbers or threatened by changing environmental or predation parameters". If we consider the Mountain Gorilla, the Giant Panda, the Polar Bear and yes, the Golden Cheeked Warbler, we are mainly talking about loss of habitat. Period. These wonderful, amazing creatures are running outta' places to live. Quite simply.
Now, I can hear some of you , "but Sally, a warbler ain't no Panda Bear". Yeah, well if I lived in China, or Africa, or the North Pole, I would be putting in the good fight for those at risk animals. But I don't. I live in Central Texas. And 'my' endangered animal is the warbler. And it lives in my backyard. And I think that's really cool! Biological diversity is crucial to the balance of Nature. Living in a mono-culture of, say, cedar and coyotes only, is not good for anyone or anything. Note: It is estimated that 1 in every 8 bird species in the world is at risk of extinction.
And recent surveys have reported a loss of up to 45% of suitable habitat for our warbler over a 10 year period. That's a lotta' land!

The GCW (yeah, you guessed it, Golden Cheeked Warbler) needs at least 250 acres of continuous forest patch, amongst the appropriate woodland, to nest. This size of acreage is becoming less and less available, as land cleared for development is increasing. Habitat for this bird is rapidly being lost or altered in some way due to urban sprawl and poor land management practices. Ongoing fragmentation of the remaining available habitat also creates further problems by isolating certain populations and thus reducing the flow of genes amongst them. This can potentially create a loss of genetic diversity.

GCW's are doubly threatened as they are losing their tropical rainforest winter habitat as well. Warblers only stay in Texas for about three months (from March till about June-give or take) and then fly south to Mexico and Central America. The rainforests that they frequently spend their winter months in are rapidly vanishing due to development also.

In addition to all this habitat loss, the GCW has also to contend with the dreaded Brown Headed Cowbird. This particular bird is known as a 'parasite' bird. It lays its' eggs in the nests of other birds (uh...rude!) and then the unfortunate foster parents are faced with having to feed too many mouths. And, more importantly, the Cowbird eggs tend to hatch at a faster rate and as a result have a higher survival rate. Brown Headed Cowbirds, studies have shown, have impacted the mortality rates of GCW's quite negatively, as they seem to favor the nests of songbirds. Thus, when biologists are formulating a GCW habitat management plan for protection, the Brown Headed Cowbird is almost always considered. And by that I mean, there is also 'management' (i.e.-trap and dispose of) for the Cowbird. I've had experiences with setting up and managing cowbird traps every spring for the past few years. It is an unpleasant duty to undertake, but like feral hogs, a necessary one.

Listing this species as 'endangered' is not without controversy. Landowners may be restricted in certain aspects of development on their land if it is discovered that a pair of nesting warblers are residents. Just imagine, if a pair of Giant Pandas decided that your backyard was an awesome place to start a family. ('bear' with me here, haha) The authorities might not want you to add on that extra storage space behind the garage for fear you might frighten or stress them. Pandas might not like power tools. Or any loud noises. At the Park I work at, after March 1st we are forbidden to use any loud tools, chainsaws or machines, in or near, Golden Cheeked Warbler habitat. It's the law!
In fact, in 2006, Ft.Hood military training base, lost 119 days of live-fire trainings as a result of restrictions on access because of the endangered Golden Cheeked Warbler. How do you think that was received?
And since about 97% of the land in Texas is privately owned, chances are the warbler is going to find suitable habitat on someones property. Like ours. And not a bird friendly park or preserve.
The authorities and government agencies responsible for the bird's protection realize this dilemma and in turn have offered reasonable incentives for landowners to 'jump on board' and help in the conservation of the GCW. I happen to feel it is a blessing, and not a burden to be one of the few places in Texas, in North America...in the world! that this little bird chooses to call home for a little while. But I realize, some people don't share that opinion.

In early to mid March, the male warblers arrive first and establish a territory about 10 acres in area. Older males usually reclaim the previous year's site and immediately defend it with song, among other things such as chases and physical attacks. But it is this song, often described as a "bzzzz layzeee dayzeee" that marks the beginning of Spring for me. And because a warbler is only 4.5 inches tall and not easily spotted, their song is how I find them.

Rockmoor has a very, very healthy bird population. All sorts of summer and winter migrating avians pass through our juniper and oak woodlands. It truly is a birder's paradise. So if you happen to be visiting Rockmoor this Spring, bring along some binoculars and listen for the buzzing sound of the Golden Cheeked Warbler. And when you finally spot one, you'll be witnessing a very rare piece of natural history. Just one more thing that makes Rockmoor a special place indeed.


Happy birding!

Sally Anne


*photo: Steve Maslowski/USFS

J. Frank Dobie

Several Christmases ago, my mother gifted me with an original copy of J. Frank Dobie's 1931 classic work, 'On the Open Range'. The kind of old book whose hardbound binding is falling apart and faded at the seams from countless openings and closings. Worn pages, lightly darkened at the edges through years of captivated fingers turning pages. And most curiously, this treasured book has a very distinct smell (as old books do) reminiscent of my Grandfathers' garage, that was filled with, amongst countless other things, boxes upon boxes of books.
J. Frank Dobie, for those of you unfamiliar, was an American folklorist and writer best know for his depiction of rural Texas, and the Southwest, in all its richness and tradition, in the days of the open range. It has been said that he is the first well known Texas author to be recognized internationally for his writing work. But Dobie was also known in his lifetime, as a public figure, for his outspoken liberal views against Texas state politics. The FBI actually secretly investigated Dobie during the McCarthy era as one of Texas' leading dissenters. I sum him up as a John Muir/Edward Abby combined with a Molly Ivins/Jim Hightower. Basically, someone I could totally hang out with around a campfire and throw back a few beers with.

After receiving this book, I prominently placed it on a shelf that helped add a little 'rustic' to my home, never bothering to actually read it. Many months passed, and then one day it caught my eye and I picked it up and began turning pages and reading a few paragraphs. I became mesmerized as Dobie began describing with remarkable clarity the land of the Southwest that I so dearly loved and had spent countless times wandering, alone and with friends. I was completely drawn in. He 'spun yarns' about cowboys and Indians, long traildrives and hidden gold; the true old Wild West. I believe the book rested on my nightstand for a few weeks as I read and re-read stories and tales of the open range. I then sought out other writings of Dobie and became equally as charmed and delighted. Thus, my affection for Dobie began.

He loved the outdoors and the miracle of Nature with a passion that I can identify with and embrace. Anyone that writes these words is an inspiration to me..."For me the beautiful resides in the physical, but it is spiritual. I have never heard a sermon as spiritual in either phrase or fact as 'waters on a starry night are beautiful and free'. No hymn lifts my heart higher than the morning call of the bobwhite or the long fluting cry of sandhill cranes out of the sky at dusk. I have never smelled incense in a church as refining to the spirit as a spring breeze laden with the aroma from a field of bluebonnets." Another favorite quote of mine Dobie uttered was when he was on a teaching fellowship at Cambridge University in England and was getting 'grilled' on the American Constitution. He explained to the relentless room of young British academics that he hadn't read the Constitution since he was a boy and didn't understand it then. But that he DID know 'the length of horns on longhorn steers, the music inherent in coyote howling and the smell of coffee boiled over mesquite wood". Another audience put at ease by Dobie's charm and quick wit.

Dobie was born on a Texas ranch in September of 1888, the eldest of six children. He lived on this ranch, of 7000 acres, until he was 16. In 1910 he graduated from Southwestern University in Georgetown and later earned a master's degree from Columbia University in New York City, in 1913. The next year he joined the faculty of the University of Texas, leaving in 1917 to serve in the field artillery in WWI. He returned to the faculty in 1919 only to leave once again after becoming dissatisfied with the academic life. For a while he managed his uncles ranch, a quarter of a million acres(!) along the Nueces River. It was here that Dobie conceived the idea to which he then devoted his life. The collecting and retelling of legends and folk tales of Texas.

He returned, once again, to UT, and in 1922 became the Secretary of the Texas Folklore Society, a position he held for 21 years. His first book was published in 1929, "A Vaquero in Brush Country". In 1933 Dobie became a full professor in the English department of UT, thus becoming the first native Texan to receive a full professorship in that department at the University. This was unusual as Dobie did not hold a PhD. He was asked often about this, prompting his famous quote "The average PhD thesis is nothing but a transference of bones from one graveyard to the another". Dobie taught 'Life and Literature of the Southwest' at UT. His obituary called it the most popular course at the University.

Prior to his professorship and after a yearlong research grant Dobie took the time to make a 2000 mile trek, on muleback, across the Southwest gathering folklore. He notes his research was found around campfires, trading posts and chuck wagons.

While quite popular with students and fellow professors, Dobie often clashed with the University's regents over policy and politics. His insistence on 'free-range' thinking led him to preach such radical actions as full integration of the University of Texas. In the 1940's! As you can imagine, this was not well received by the governing body of The University.
He was well known among his contemporaries for his long personal war against what he believed to be as 'bragging Texans, religious prejudice, restraints on individual liberty and the assault of the mechanized world on the human spirit." Dobie boldly fought for labor, free speech and civil rights well before these causes became acceptable to most Anglo Texans.
What on earth would Dobie think of Texas politics today?

"I have come to value liberated minds as the supreme good life on earth"-J. Frank Dobie


So what does J. Frank Dobie have to do with Rockmoor? Well, back in 1959, after a severe illness, Dobie sold his ranch in Marble Falls, Texas and bought a 250 acre ranch 14 miles southwest of Austin, which he named Paisano. (paisano is the Spanish name for the ground bird 'chaparral' more commonly known as a 'roadrunner') Paisano, as many of you know, lies adjacent to Rockmoor and shares a fenceline. Dobie used this ranch as a writer's retreat until his death in 1964. Following his death there was then a movement, amongst his friends and contemporaries, to preserve the ranch. Shortly after, in 1966, the deed was handed over to the University of Texas. The mission statement of Paisano stated, "Paisano will be operated by the University of Texas as a permanent memorial to J. Frank Dobie and the primary use will be to encourage creative artistic efforts in all fields, particularly writing. It will be kept in its present, more or less, natural state and the ranch house will be kept in simple style, very much as it was when Frank Dobie occupied it."
Two fellowships, of six months, are awarded each year by a committee chosen by the presidents of the University of Texas and the Texas Institute of Letters. The applicants must be native Texans, or Texas residents for at least two years or persons whose writing is substantially identified with the state. It is quite an honor for a writer to be chosen. The list of past 'fellows' is an impressive one. All are published authors with many familiar names.

I recently contacted the director of the Paisano Fellowship program and have set up a visit to Paisano in the coming weeks. I hope to share that experience with you afterwards. I'm eager to see with my own eyes this historical place that I have heard so much about since childhood. Dobie has settled into his own place in Texas history and I think it's very special that he lived and worked so close to Rockmoor. It's not everyday that one has a neighbor that is inducted into the Western Writers Hall of Fame (1986) or is awarded the Medal of Freedom by an American President(fellow Texan Lyndon Johnson in 1964). Not to mention one who is buried in the Texas State Cemetery in downtown Austin. Dobie is a bona fide slice of Texas history, as well as American, and he lived right down the road. I like to think that he paid Rockmoor a visit a time or two.


If any of you plan on traveling the deserts of the Southwest or the brush country of Big Bend soon, you should find a copy of Dobie's work and bring it along. I've no doubt you will be delighted, as I am, by his story telling and images he paints with words. And then join me around the campfire at Rockmoor for a few beers and we can tell and retell our own adventures. Because I never get tired of hearing them.

Thanks for the book Mom.

Till next time...

Sally Anne


*photo courtesy of Center for American History*

There are two kinds of ranches...

I recently heard a wise, old Hill Country dweller utter the statement, "There are two kinds of ranches in Texas. Those that have feral hogs. And those that soon will." Rockmoor, as far as I can tell, falls into the latter category. However, I won't be surprised when the day arrives that I find a set of hog tracks on the road or a recent mud wallow down near the creek. Feral hogs are essentially domesticated pigs 'gone wild'. Early Spanish explorers were probably the first to introduce hogs to Texas over 300 years ago. They most likely escaped captivity, or were released for hunting purposes, and have, over time, developed traits for survival in the wild.
The United States is home to more than 4 million feral hogs, also known as Sus Scrofa, their scientific name. Two million of those reside in Texas.
Texas is a big place, so why should we be concerned about a few million pigs? Well, for a whole lotta' reasons I've learned. First off, they are most certainly not a native species and disrupt the natural order of things. Yet, they are able to reproduce at a remarkably rapid rate, making them almost impossible to control by conventional methods. Sows average two litters a year, with 4-10 piglets, and living 6 to 8 years; breeding age is around 7 months. I've been told under ideal circumstances, with a constant food source, a group of hogs is able to double in size within 4 months. Essentially, if you did the numbers, a healthy pig could potentially be responsible for up to 1000 other pigs in a 5 year period. (!!!) Damage caused by wild hogs is destructive to habitat and agriculture. Their rooting and trampling activity for food can damage, extensively, agricultural crops and fields. They also destabilize wetland areas, springs and creeks by their excessive rooting and wallowing. As they root up the ground, they cause weeds to grow where grasses once were, thus shifting the the plant community structure. Not to mention, they compete for food with native animal species, particularly mast crops (acorns) and are quite fond of consuming eggs of native nesting birds. The estimated annual agricultural damage caused by hogs is upwards of up to 52 million dollars. Their increasing numbers have caused so much concern among authorities that the Texas Department of Agriculture (TDA)is seeking participation in a county grant program for the abatement of feral hogs. In short, if you 'dispose' of the most hogs, you win $25,000! Feral hogs are an unprotected, exotic, non-game animal. They may be 'taken' any time of the year, by any method. There are no seasons for hunting them, no bag limits. Also, legislation is in the works at this very moment to make it legal to hunt them by helicopter.

But hunting these wild pigs is easier said than done. There is a good reason George Orwell, in his 1945 classic novel, Animal Farm, made the 'leaders' (however corrupt) of the Farm, pigs. Pigs are smart. Very smart. Hence, very difficult to hunt, much less trap. Pigs have a very heightened sense of smell, rivaling that of any other competing wildlife. They are able to smell, I'm told, up to 50 feet underground and over several miles away above. If they catch even the faintest unfamiliar scent they leave the area. A large round disc of cartilage is connected to muscle that gives their snout extra flexibility. And while most wildlife utilize the same game trails night after night, pigs often take different routes nightly, sometimes leaving an area for months only to return and stay for weeks. Their hearing is also highly developed, making them an extremely challenging prey. In fact, they have few natural predators. The coyote is probably the most successful, stealing a piglet now and again for an evening meal. So places with high coyote populations is a good means of keeping the feral hog numbers down. Rockmoor, without a doubt, is home to many a coyote. So we have that going for us. And hogs are mainly active only at night making that much more difficult to find them.

Wild hogs aren't necessarily known for aggressive and dangerous behavior, yet one needs to be cautious around a sow with piglets and a cornered or injured animal. Male hogs, boars, do have four continually growing tusks, that can reach up to 5 inches before breaking off, and sometimes even longer. These tusks can become quite sharp. As the two tusks on the top jaw rub against the two on the lower mandible they are constantly being sharpened. Yikes!

While hunting and tracking this savvy animal is challenging to say the least, trapping them, I've learned first hand, is also quite an obstacle for all the above mentioned reasons. As many of you know, I work at a county park in far western Travis County, not too terribly far away from Rockmoor. We have recently implemented an aggressive, or so we thought, trapping campaign of feral hogs since our Park has suffered extensive hog damage. We utilize a sizable pen with a trap door. The pen has been baited with soured corn mash (often with beer, diesel and even Gatorade) and potatoes (we use root vegetable since pigs like to 'root' around) We bury the bait and set up a thin trip wire that springs a heavy metal door that comes crashing down behind the unsuspecting animal. In the past month or so, after countless hours of perfecting our well thought out and researched trapping device, we have managed to outwit ZERO of these wild animals. Our high tech wildlife cameras have been the only things doing any 'catching' . That is, catching several deer feeding nonchalantly on the corn scattered about and one rather impressively sized raccoon, on film. No 'Hog-zillas'. Yet just two months ago, as I worked solo clearing cedar in a side canyon not even 300 yards away, I was run up a tree by a 'sounder' (as packs of wild hogs are known) of 14 hogs out on an early afternoon jaunt. They are definitely in the area. And definitely NOT going in our traps.

Feral hog meat is quite delectable if you can actually get hold of one. If you attended my New Year's party this year you know exactly what I'm talking about. It is much leaner than domesticated pig and not as greasy. And as I discovered, a 35lb. pig, feeds about the same number of hungry New Year's revelers. An average mature sow weighs in at about 100 lb, and it is not uncommon to hear reports of boars reaching upwards of 400 lbs. That would be one big New Year's party!

As much as I dislike killing any animal, I realize the necessity of controlling the numbers of feral hogs in the wild. If left unchecked, these animals will continue their expeditious proliferation and continue to disrupt the natural order of things. Their damage to habitat and agriculture will continue to increase. Rockmoor has been lucky thus far. Yet, the topography and landscape, are perfect habitat for feral hogs. I'm constantly looking for signs of them. Like the old timer said, "it's not IF you get hogs. It's WHEN you get 'em."

snow at the ranch

Well it certainly feels like winter around here now as temperatures have remained below freezing for several days. The Hill Country received a beautiful dusting of snow last night and the ranch is blanketed in a cover of white. The dogs and I were eager to get out in it before it melts in a few hours. My Alaska born dog Cassie was especially excited to get outside this morning. As any good mountain dog would do who hasn't seen snow in a while she immediately proceeded to roll in the white stuff for a good while and then break into circle sprints. And then of course, she began eating it. Ella, my lab/beagle mix, was a bit more cautious, thinking perhaps it was somehow dangerous, but she eventually got the hang of it and started to enjoy it.
My favorite thing about when it snows at the ranch is to go looking for animal tracks since it is so easy to see them. It's an adventure to go and find 'clues' as to who was passing through, how many, how big and what they found so interesting as to circle around and stop. So the dogs and I set out on a hike of the ranch before the snowmelt to 'get to know' our nocturnal neighbors.
We found a pack of coyotes, at least four or five, had taken a nightly trot around the barn area and then headed off down the field. One of them must have caught scent of something, because at one point, it does a little circle in the road.
We found several fox prints on the same path as well. Maybe one was following the other. But the fox took off into the barn area somewhere.
The most humorous ones we found were of the cottontail rabbit. I either am surrounded at my house by a colony of them, or there is one BUSY little bunny that lives nearby. His (or her) tracks were all over my place. It appears the rabbit tried to access my garden only to find that, yes, I had once again shut the gate that I put such effort into for the sole purpose of keeping him OUT. So after giving up on the garden he hopped over to the chicken coop maybe hoping for some of that delectable chicken feed he occasionally finds out outside. He then made his way to his favorite spot, underneath the bird feeder. My bird feeders are also rabbit feeders because the chipping sparrows are notoriously messy eaters and are constantly dropping half of their meal onto the ground. On many an occasion I have found Mr. Rabbit enjoying someone elses leftovers. He in turn leaves me an offering. Of sorts. Rabbit droppings are high in nitrogen so I've taken to scooping up his pellets once a week or so and add them to the compost pile.
Mr. Rabbit is always keeping a watchful eye out because, whether he likes it or not, he is an important 'meal' on the food chain. He is primary prey for predators around here (coyotes, owls, hawks, and fox to name a few) His life expectancy is short, less than a year. However, Mother Nature has compensated for such brief tenure, requiring the prolific reproduction attributed to the rabbit species. Mama Rabbit can produce up to 6 litters in one year and yield up to 5-6 per litter. That's alot of little hoppers! Granted, many of those little bunnies won't live long enough to reach breeding age, but that is still an impressive amount.
Cassie, when she was younger and sprier, would every once in a while be able to actually catch a rabbit. And that's not an easy thing to do since they are able to jump distances of up to 8 feet when being pursued. And if you've ever witnessed a rabbit on the run you will have observed their amazing ability to change directions on a dime. Very quick.

Well the sun is out now, the snow is melting quick and the dogs are taking advantage of the sunshine and warming themselves on the porch. I'm gonna' spend the day at the ranch clearing some more cedar, making another batch of homebrew, practice my guitar and keeping the chickens' water free of ice. When I walked to the farmhouse earlier, I looked in Nina's diaries because I'm always curious what she was up to on the same day. And on February 4th, 1937 she said "light frost this morning. Started ironing at 10:00 AM, wasn't done till 3 PM', worked on quilt in evening." A little different from my day. But not really. (- :

Till next time.

Sally Anne