Category Archives: Trees

Belted Kingfisher

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My hiking group took a field trip to the Nalle Bunny Run Wildlife Preserve. This reserve was donated to the Hill Country Conservancy by the Nalle family in honor of Anne Byrd Nalle and her love of nature. They give guided tours once a month. Our guide was Michael and he is quite knowledgeable about birds. He listed 33 birds he identified by sight or sound during our walk. My brief claim to fame from the walk is getting this blurry photo of a Belted Kingfisher as it flew nearby, over the Colorado River.

Photo of a Belted Kingfisher in flight

Look! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! Wait, it IS a bird!

Fiction Friday: Not That Easy

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Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Sandra Crook

Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Sandra Crook

Not That Easy

“I can’t just go walking up to it in the middle of the day and retrieve the gun, Ted. It’s not that easy. How was I supposed to know it was going to be cleaned up and opened to the public as a park. Yes, I know which tree it is. Don’t worry. I’m almost there. Everyone should be at home now, keeping warm.”

Coming out of the copse, Seth stopped at the bridge, silently staring at the stump where the tree used to be.

“Seth,” Ted’s tiny voice came out of the cell phone. “Do you have the gun?”
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Fiction Friday: Touching the Sky

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Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Erin Leary

Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Erin Leary

Touching the Sky

“I don’t see the resemblance,” the mushroom said. “The pinecone doesn’t look like you.”

“Not now,” replied the fence, “but eventually it will grow into a tree, just like I was.”

“What happened to you?” the mushroom asked. “Why are you naked?”

“Don’t get me started,” the fence said, wincing. “In 50 years that pinecone will be a tree so tall it will block the sun.”

The fence and the mushroom were quiet, in contemplation. For the mushroom, the thought of 50 years was unfathomable, but the fence had fond memories of wind in its branches, of touching the sky.
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