Linear view vs. Masonry View

My Favorite Pecan

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The (Original) World’s Largest Pecan, Seguin, Texas March 2019

According to the sign next to this nut, Spanish explorer Cabeza de Vaca was the first European to describe the pecan, noting they were “good food”. Apparently, he had plenty of time to get familiar with the nut since he was held captive along the Guadalupe River for nine years.

Built in 1962, this statue is five feet long, two and a half wide, and weighs in at 1,000 pounds. For comparison, I placed an actual pecan and some nut meat that I found nearby on top. This is undisputedly my favorite pecan ever!

Let me tell you why: We had pecan trees when I was a kid and while gathering the nuts was a fun scavenger hunt, the shelling was excruciating. The tedious, messy, and finger-staining job fell to me. As Thanksgiving and its promise of pie neared, my weekend was shot. Seated at the picnic table, I had a 5-gallon bucket of pecans on my right, an empty one on the other side, and in front of me on the table sat the weapon of torture; the Texas Nutcracker.

This contraption was a gift from my favorite Aunt to Dad one Christmas. To say I did not think fondly of her when using it is an understatement. The procedure: pull back slider, insert pecan length-wise into grooved bed, attach the two heavy-duty rubber bands firmly around the peg on the base and the slider mechanism, pull the slider back six inches, (ooh, and this part is important) remember to move fingers before releasing slider.

With a loud snap, the slider pounded into the hard shell. If all went well, my fingers did not get pinched, pieces of shell did not fly out and scrape my skin, and the shell was cracked enough for me to pry it open and retrieve the mostly intact nutmeat halves (which Mom strongly preferred over pieces).

The spent shell I dropped into the empty bucket, destined to return to the tree as mulch. Ah, but I was not yet done, I still had to carefully remove the dark and bitter-tasting pith from the deep grooves in the nutmeat. Finally, the finished product plinked into the bottom of a large stainless steel bowl. One nut done; hundreds or thousands (it felt like millions) of nuts to go. It should come as no surprise that I still abhor pecans (and detest pecan pie).

 
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Sea Butterflies

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The endlessly colorful Coquina clam (Donax variabilis) lives along the southern Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico coasts. Since the two halves are often found still attached after death, it earned the common name Sea Butterfly. This small, saltwater bivalve (no larger than an inch) lives under the sand in the littoral (or swash) zone and is considered a keystone species since so many others rely on it as a food source. The Shark Eye Moon Snail, for instance, drills into the clam, injects digestive juices, and then slurps out the mush (note the holes in some of the shells in the above photo). Willets, on the other hand, gobble coquinas whole, letting their gullet grind the shells, before regurgitating the undigested pieces in chromatic clumps.

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Sinking Shucks

My first week in Rockport I attended a talk about Oyster Reef Restoration efforts in Copano Bay (pronounced similar to Kokomo – the only #1 Beach Boys hit during the 1980s. It was released in 1988 which, unfortunately, coincided with my summer working in a pub in northern Wisconsin. Guess which ditty was the most frequently played on our jukebox? Take a wild guess as to which song made me wanna pull my hair out by the end of the day?).

But, I digress. The speaker outlined the financial impact of oysters, obviously for the oyster industry but also the indirect benefits of oysters (improved water quality, reefs providing safe refuge for the young of dozens of other commercially harvestable species, as well as reducing shoreline erosion).

In recognition of the value of oyster reefs, and to counteract their decline – primarily due to decades of harvesting and an oyster disease called dermo (Perkinsus marinus) – Texas recently enacted a law that requires oyster wholesalers to pay a fee or return an amount of oyster shell to the state. As I mentioned in an earlier post, most wholesalers are opting to pay the fee since they can sell the shells for a much higher price (a main source of calcium for health supplements).

The Harte Research Institute for Gulf of Mexico Studies took it one step further by convincing a few local restaurants to separate used oyster shells from their waste stream to be used in a volunteer reef restoration program called Sink Your Shucks. The program began a reef restoration project at Goose Island State Park in 2012 and I was fortunate to take part in the ongoing effort this morning.

With roughly 75 of us volunteering we filled over 1,000 bags (averaging 5 gallons of shell per bag) and placed them in the bay. It was a bit of a workout but the weather was lovely and it felt good play a small part in this important work.

 

Piles of Shells
Shoveling Oyster Shells
Tying the Bags
Over 1,000 bags Filled
Pass the Oysters!
St. Charles Bay
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Evolution of My Transportation

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I beachcombed these toys during my daily walks along Rockport Beach over the past couple months. I found them in this order, from left to right, and it made me chuckle when I realized they formed a pretty accurate timeline of the modes of transit in my life.

I grew up with ponies and horses but my favorite was Pancho. After school and on weekends (basically, any chance I got) we’d meander trails through the desert. I preferred riding bareback as it was the fastest way to freedom. On our way home I’d drop the reins around his neck and lay back to watch the sky. I’d share my young cares and worries, as well as my farfetched dreams, with my sweet pony; my head lolling side to side on his rump as he’d carefully walk us home.

Later, as a teenager I spent one summer zipping around a small town in Illinois on a moped. Okay, so it wasn’t a motorcycle, but I still loved that feeling of the breeze  flowing freely through my hair. I’ll admit the coolness factor of my moped was lessened by the basket up front but at least it came in handy. After I found a momma dog and her puppies at an abandoned farmhouse, most of my time was occupied collecting bottles along the roadside and redeeming them for the deposit so I could buy her dog food.

A few more years passed before I finally had my first car. The lure of the open road was (and remains) strong. I love that feeling of liberation when I open a map and follow a blue highway to anywhere. I’ve driven in all 50 states as well as through huge chunks of Canada. Along the way, I’ve logged 750,000 miles in ten different vehicles (yes, one of them was red and a couple were SUVs). Since I still love to explore, I have a shot at hitting a million in my lifetime.

Funny what you’ll find on the beach…
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Seacat

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Gafftopsail Catfish, Rockport, Texas April 2019

Don’t let the shiny surface of the Gafftopsail Catfish (Bagre marinus) fool you – this fish is adorned with long, venomous spines (hiding in the dorsal and pectoral fins). Fishing websites recommend caution when dealing with this species as one wrong move can send you to the emergency room in horrible pain. Interesting factoid, the male is a mouthbreeder, meaning after fertilizing her eggs (up to 55 of them) he carries them in his mouth until they hatch. He must forgo food for the entire 65 day incubation period. What a good dad!

 
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