Over lunch, we google places of interest nearby. Aransas Pass is just north of Corpus Christie on the Gulf Coast. Every major road takes us by waterways, and we have seen numerous shore birds, and even dolphins, just in our drives. I am making mental notes of all the places I want to visit.
“I’m not averse to just spending our winter here,” I tell Ric. Our original plan is to do a month in Texas then two weeks of travel, and the rest of the time in Arizona. Four long days of travel has taken its toll on both of us.
“It will be hard to see everything in a month,” he agrees. He calls the RV park office. They are booked up.
“I did so much better in Arizona, though,” I argue. “Maybe we should stick to the original plan.”
“We don’t have decide right away. Let’s give it some time.”
Meanwhile, it is an overcast and chilly day, so we decide to drive to the nearby wildlife refuge and scout it out. The park offers an auto route which is just perfect for a day like today.
The bay is visible from the roadway, and many tall shorebirds wade and hunt.
“Check it out,” Ric says, stopping the car so I can pop out for a picture.
I think he is talking about the birds in the distance, but my movement prompts a response from something in the long grass next to the car – a pair of deer. The two eye me, apparently more curious than scared.
There are more deer ahead, and a few small songbirds, and several trails that we will visit on another trip. At the bottom of the trail is an observation tower which overlooks the Whooping Crane sanctuary, but on this day, there are only a few egrets dotting the large expanse of green and water.
I get out at one point to check out the alligator viewing area, but it is just me, a couple of American Coots and a few ducks. Something startles in the bush as I walk by and I hear a few distinct calls deep in the brush, but don’t spot anything else.
On the outer loop, we encounter a Great Egret hunting in the marsh. I get out to take some pictures, and the bird is nonplussed. Ric inches the car up a bit, and the bird flies ahead a few feet and stops again, as if leading us out of the park.
We stop for Mexican food on the way home, and then sated, hunker in for the night, our heads spinning with possibilities.
The next morning, Ric’s cell rings early. Recognizing the caller i.d. I picked it up.
“We’ve had a cancellation if you want it,” the park manager says.