Photos I promised of the Snails of North Austin. They lead such a nomadic existence, carrying shelter wherever they roam. Their experience of time must be entirely off kilter from ours - they operate at such slower rates of speed!

I remember the first time I saw a great blue heron. I was riding on the back seat of a motorcycle in the early 1980s on a rural two-lane road between Austin and Dripping Springs, and the driver stretched out his arm and pointed. A large blue gray bird was majestically beating its wings, floating above a great field alongside the road.

Everything went into pause, an expansiveness, a wildness, the heron in the blue clouded sky, and us on the bike, traveling on parallel, synchronous courses. The bird was in its ancient space and we in our industrial world, holding on to the sacred moment.

The air smells sweet from the doorstep;
trees are sighing like waves rolling in from the sea.
The earth is hard and thirsty
beneath a coverlet of green.

We no longer wish for rain.
Without any wishes,
we breathe in the contradiction
of sweet air at night.

All things are true.

The coffee shop
is still brewing coffee in the morning;
there are sugar cookies
behind the counter.

I don't know.

The photos of flowers and butterflies this week are all from April, 2012, Austin, Texas, 78757. I moved on February 1 to a different area in the same part of town. I've been fascinated by the flowers and phenomena in my new backyard. These flowers, and the funny deep blue flowers I posted earlier this month, are new to me. I haven't watered them but once back in February. We've had very little rain, yet they thrive in the dry earth. The blue ones, for such tall plants, have very short roots.

I don't see pistils or stamen in these orange ones - they may be hidden deep in the blooms I suppose. I'm hesitant to dissect a bloom and find out. There are similar plants in the neighborhood with bright yellow blooms. (I'm so very grateful to see flowers this year. There were almost none in the heat of spring 2011.)

The former residents left a couple of small gardens in the backyard. Some kale they planted lasted without much growth or deterioration from early February to mid-April, the same plant, fresh and green. Finally, in the last couple of days, I think the snails have got to them, the leaves turning to lace. I hope to get good photos of these colorful snails with shells a full inch in diameter. The snails when I lived in central Texas in the past were tiny and white. These are more impressive, and if they're what's doing the eating, they have appetites.

Whether the subject is an insect or a human, there is a collaboration between a photographer and his or her subject. (It's not just camera-shy friends who don't want to be captured. Sometimes even flowers dodge the lens.) In this case, the butterflies were tolerant of my interest, and remained poised as I took a few pictures.