If you've read my blog awhile, then you know about O Wise Cenizo. That's the smart cenizo that grows across the street and is pretty good at predicting rain. I've even written about it (check out "Right on Rain," Texas Co-op Power May 2022). Anyway, we were recently walking along the street-side of our front yard when I spotted something interesting on the ground, growing among the asphalt rocks. I crouched down. Rabbit tobacco? No, a baby cenizo! And one descended from O Wise Cenizo across the street! Of course, I had to adopt it! Awhile ago, James dug it up for me, and we put it in a pot. We'll probably plant it in The Meadow. Or maybe The Pasture?
So I did a thing, then wished I hadn't. There was a wasp nest over one of our automatic garage door entrances. I happened to be walking past and noticed that the nest was empty. So I popped it off! Not a good place for a nest, I'd been thinking lately. The nest landed on the concrete driveway. I leaned over and picked it up. Upon closer examination, I saw little larva heads (those black things in the hexagon spaces). Babies. Oh, dear. Bad me.
When mama came back, she looked and looked for her nest. Meanwhile, I'd put it in a yogurt container. Somehow I managed to get her in it, and she immediately went to feed her brood. She is a Guinea paper wasp (Polistes exclamans). For more info on wasps, check out a short article I wrote for Texas Parks & Wildlife magazine on the fine-backed red paper wasp.
Yes, I interfered, and I doubt she'll be able to establish a nest colony in the container. But I guess we'll see what happens.
Hmm. I was walking in our backyard gardens yesterday and noticed that some of my Texas skeleton plants looked sickly. I squatted down for a closer look. What I saw was akin to spider webbing with LOTS of tiny red creepy-crawlies skittering about. Spider mites, likely in the family of Tetranychidae. I should probably do them in. But I'm usually in the mindset of letting nature be nature. Oh, I took a short video of them, too (below).
Despite their common name, spider mites are NOT spiders. But they are arachnids because they have eight legs.
You know me. I'm always saving something. Yesterday it was a Liris wasp species that was in our AC bucket. I got a lot of pictures of it, then I took a short video (below). I think it's interesting to watch how critters behave.
More than 300 people gathered Saturday afternoon, March 14, 2026, to celebrate the iconic life of conservationist J. David Bamberger. I was honored to be among them. I represented both myself and the Texas Master Naturalist program. Though I did not volunteer on his Selah-Bamberger Ranch, I knew Mr. Bamberger through the years, starting with a profile I wrote on him in 1993 for Texas Parks & Wildlife magazine. He was 65 at the time. I’m now 67 and wish I had the energy he had at 97 when he left for heaven. Since we first met, his work – Selah, Bamberger Ranch Preserve – has grown exponentially and in amazing ways, as is shared on the ranch’s website.
More than 30 years ago, he told me: “I’m the steward, not the owner. That’s what we all are – stewards. And I hope my legacy will not be that he made a lot of money or accomplished things in a business sense, but that he sustained a movement that influenced enough people to ensure that the coming generations will be able to live richer, fuller lives.”
Mission accomplished, sir. Well done, Mr. Bamberger, well done.
We gathered in front and around Hes’ Country Store for the memorial.
So many hugs among friends, many long-time and some new.
Andy Samson spoke about his long-time friend and colleague, J. David Bamberger. It was very windy that afternoon so the audio’s not good.
Per his wishes, J. David Bamberger’s ashes were spread across his beloved land via helicopter. It was very moving to witness.
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Here is the profile I wrote about Mr. Bamberger in the August 1993 issue of Texas Parks & Wildlife magazine.
