Smooch!

On Sunday afternoon we drove downtown, parked under MoPac, and walked the 3-mile loop around Town Lake. Reds, oranges, yellows—the trees along the lake blazed with color. Well, they blazed by Austin’s standards.

It was a gorgeous day—about 79 degrees and partly cloudy—and we strolled along, just leaf peeping, people watching, and checking out the improvements along the trail. These were numerous. I hadn’t been to Town Lake since last spring—I avoid it during the heat of summer—and I noticed new stone work, trail markers, and plantings all along the route, thanks to the fundraising and hard work of the Town Lake Trail Foundation, a group that has picked up where the city left off years ago on much-needed trail maintenance.

Gigantic bald cypresses line the lake, their feathery leaves a rusty orange. I couldn’t believe the size of some of them. Their trunks must be 30 feet around.

A balding man gazes up at a mighty bald cypress.

The tree’s sinuous roots reach into the water. This is a tree that likes wet feet. I had to watch my step so as not to trip over cypress knees (roots) rearing out of the embankment.

The trail was dusty, since it hasn’t rained in a while, and the plants alongside the trail were seemingly frosted with fine dust. But the day was fine.

Kayakers were out up and down the lake. If you aren’t from Austin, you may wonder why the river through town is called a lake. Yes, it is the Colorado River, but it’s dammed and so technically a lake, even though it still looks and flows like a river. Motorized boats aren’t allowed on Town Lake, and it’s a favorite place for rowers, crew teams, kayakers, and canoers. On summer evenings, bat-watching cruises (motorized) are allowed to take passengers on a gentle ride down the lake to the Congress Avenue Bridge to watch the bats emerge for their hunt.

This is one of the new retaining walls along the trail. It replaced old, rotten railroad ties, as I remember. A nice improvement.

A spiky yucca and a red rose pair beautifully.

More color at Lou Neff Point.

Children like to feed the ducks along the Barton Creek inlet near Lou Neff Point. Here a strawberry blonde and a ponytailed redhead relaxed with their child beneath a rusty bald cypress. That baby is bound to be a redhead too.

Kayakers found the spot favorable also.

Now this is the life.

A wooden bridge crosses the Barton Creek inlet into Town Lake, making for a picturesque view. We like to look for turtles from the bridge. This time we saw some large fish down there too. What that fisherman needed was a spotter up on the bridge to locate them.

This bamboo grove puts me in mind of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. It used to be a favorite spot for homeless people to camp until the city came in and thinned it out.

Autumn texture

The Pfluger Bridge—seen here under the Lamar Boulevard Bridge—provides a safe crossing for pedestrians and bicyclists. Before it was built, you had to use the narrow shoulder of the Lamar Bridge, and accidents with cars were not uncommon. The new bridge is not only a beautiful, safe crossing but an overlook destination in itself. I’ve even heard of spontaneous musical concerts happening up there in the evening.

From the Pfluger Bridge you get a good view of Austin’s growing skyline and political sentiments graffitied on the railroad bridge.

The dome of the capitol peeks over fall foliage. This is similar to the view from Zanthan‘s yard, as I recall from one of her earlier posts.

Looking the other way, over the Lamar Bridge, toward the hills of west Austin.

A bald cypress hangs onto its greenery on the north side of the lake.

Late afternoon light slants across Town Lake.

A freeze is expected on Thursday, and those colorful fall leaves will soon be floating down the lake. At the end of the Thanksgiving weekend, I am thankful that our family was able to enjoy this perfect day on the Hike-and-Bike Trail.

Camellia in bloom at Bayou Bend

After not one but two Thanksgiving feasts—Thursday with my husband’s family, Friday with mine—it was time to give thanks for nature’s beauty and feast our eyes instead of our bellies. So before we left Houston today we took a stroll at Bayou Bend, a 14-acre estate garden located just minutes from downtown. Named for Buffalo Bayou, the sometime-river/sometime-storm drain that runs through it, Bayou Bend’s woodlands and formal gardens comprise a green oasis amid busy streets and looming buildings.

Buffalo Bayou

Donated to the city of Houston in 1957 by unfortunately named philanthropist Ima Hogg (I kid you not), Bayou Bend is Old South at its most elegant. As in many of Houston’s gardens, evergreen shrubs rule: camellias, azaleas, boxwoods, yews. So different from Austin’s drier, Hill Country-inspired gardens studded with ornamental grasses, salvias, and agaves. Bayou Bend evokes, for me, memories of a Carolina childhood, especially on a warm fall day like today, the camellias loaded with fat buds and a carpet of fragrant, brown pine needles under my feet.

The entrance to this elegant, staid garden is surprisingly adventurous. You cross a narrow, wooden suspension bridge high above the sluggish bayou. If you feel especially daring you might be tempted to pause for a moment and give the thing a good bounce or two, although sternly worded signs warn prudishly against stopping while on the bridge.

Charming garden gates always win me over.

The afternoon sun lights up the formal Clio garden, named for the muse of poetry and history, seen here from the back.

The formal lawn steps down from the house on brick-lined, grassy steps. While elegant, the garden also feels approachable thanks to its comfortable, human scale.

The lawn terminates at this grand fountain that frames a statue of Diana the Huntress. The plant selection may be uninspired, but it gets the job done, providing evergreen walls for the garden rooms Ima strove to create.

Another grand feature: an enormous, ancient sycamore whose white-skinned trunks shine among the evergreens. I’d forgotten that trees could get this tall; in Austin we have plenty of trees, but they rarely reach towering heights.

A quiet resting place.

A third statue, of Euterpe, the muse of music, gleams as white as the sycamore’s limbs in front of columnar Japanese yews.

Who knew? Houston has some hills. The paths at Bayou Bend flow up and down hillsides that hug the bayou. The woodland garden appears to be pretty low-maintenance, with large clusters of self-sufficient plants like aspidistra under the trees. While the plant enthusiast in me would love to see a more interesting mix, this evergreen garden has the benefit of looking good in all seasons, being easy to care for, and feeling continually lush, even in winter.

The camellias are covered in buds and ready to pop. A few early bloomers are already flowering. What sweet romance in these pale, ruffled petals and glossy green leaves.

Later on, in the Heights neighborhood, we spied this clever feature in someone’s front garden: an iron fountain planted with fountain-like grasses. Mexican feathergrass grows in the top two tiers, its form echoing an imaginary splash of water. I love creativity like this.

Please, sir, may I have some more?

On Sunday evening we attended Goblins in the Garden, an annual Halloween event at the Wildflower Center. The city’s little haunters were out in force, and it was fun to see the volunteers running the event dressed in the spirit of the season. The warm weather allowed for thin costumes without coats, though by the end of the evening a chill was in the air. All in all, perfect Halloween weather.

The Big Bugs exhibit is still at the Wildflower Center, so we strolled around the grounds to ogle the wood-and-metal constructions. Some of these insects look quite fearsome on this scale, making me glad not to be bug-sized. Here are some photos from the evening.

A praying mantis dwarfs a young Superman.

The spiraling cistern in the main courtyard (the center uses a system of aqueducts and cisterns to collect and store rainwater from its rooftops) towers over the other buildings. Inside, spooky lights led the way up curving steps to the top, with a large rubber spider dropping down to scare the kids—and a few adults—at the halfway point. Here you can see the outside portion of the stairs to the top of the tower, as well as a giant inflatable spider. In the foreground, in the Meadow Garden, marches one of three Big Bug ants.

In the Demonstration Garden, a diamond of glowing, white Salvia greggii surrounds a large pot.

Ladybug in the Members Garden. Where are those giant aphids?

A quiet path in the Meditation Garden. At this very spot my kids and I once met Lady Bird Johnson. The Hill Country Stream feature was brand-new, and my then-preschooler son was gleefully chunking small rocks into the water. As Lady Bird rolled up in a wheelchair, pushed by her daughter, I became embarrassed about the rock-chunking (messing with Lady Bird’s garden!) and tried discreetly to get him to stop. Being a toddler, he did not. But Lady Bird pretended not to notice and smiled and asked whether we were enjoying the day. I was carrying my newborn daughter in a sling, and Lady Bird asked how old she was. It was a treat to see her in the garden center she founded. She’s a gracious woman who’s done a lot to promote native plants, and I was glad for the chance to tell her what a treasure the Wildflower Center is. But, boy, I wish we had not been caught throwing rocks in her pretty new creek.

Further down the stream

An ant on the march

Gulf muhly grass glowing at sunset

A damselfly in the Butterfly Garden’s pond

A window in a limestone wall opens on a view of the Demonstration Garden.

Assassin bug in the Demonstration Garden.

Do you vant to drink some blood?

Happy Halloween!