Not My Job

Soooo, sometime between forty and a hundred years ago when Cuero's roads were being built.  Somebody said "Not my job".

This elusive little guy escaped being photographed the entire two weeks he kept showing up on our last location.  Until the very last day.  He, (the bird) and his lovely bride would only show up a few hours a day, and I have a new respect for Wildlife photography. Anyway, on the last day it almost seems like he was quite the little poser.  Lisa and I have numerous photo's of weeds, the road and the radio antenna of the Bronco to delete.  This little guy flitting away just as the shutter dropped.  Or whatever shutter drops on a digital camera.

Never did get the bride.  I overheard Lisa discussing these little guy's with her Dad, Earl.  During which conversation the subject at some point turned to the premise that the male's of the species were much prettier than the female.   Seemingly, the jist of this conversation extended beyond just the birds.  Eventually resulting with Lisa getting her feathers up a bit.  So to speak.  And rightfully so I might add.  The nerve, that the male could be prettier than the female.  Not in this Castle, where I live, with Lisa and her ruffled feathers.  When Grandma's happy, everybody's happy.  The nerve of that guy.

Yeah, that's right....









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