Cibolo Park

In the morning we got up and gave a sad farewell to uncle Dave before getting on the road to Aunt Jeanne's house in Boerne just outside of San Antonio. I offered to drive, but the road warriors wouldn't hear about it. On the way to Boerne, we took turns requesting songs streamed from youtube.

In San Antonio, google directed us onto highway to i10 west, but they were completely rebuilding an interchange, and the constructed diverted us onto i10 east. We did a U-turn and then waited in traffic for 40 minutes while the lanes of all the people already travelling west and all the people turned around were funneled down to a one lane feeder road and through a stoplight.

Aunt Jeanne lives alone in a fancy, art filled house in the suburbs. Upon our arrival, she took us down the street (without sidewalks) to a local gas station that had been converted into a bakery for lunch. I had a turkey sandwich with pesto and Amanda had a pop-tart and iced coffee.

While we waited in line, I elbowed Amanda and pointed out the young woman carrying an expensive camera and wearing a bird conservancy shirt, and they quickly connected as birders, sharing tips about where to go to find the elusive golden cheeked warbler.

After lunch, we returned to the house to pick up binoculars and then headed out again on a 5-mile hike through Cibolo park. Jeanne and Joy walked at 20mph, while Amanda and I lagged behind looking for birds and taking pictures of the neighborhood. The park was full of kids swimming at the municipal pool and playing soccer, but we walked past all that and down to the stream. The water was lined by huge cypress trees whose tangled roots looked like a fairy tale illustration.

Following the water downstream, we came upon a log that had fallen across the stream, and I wanted to cross to the other side, but I didn't want to leave the group without knowing where we were going. When we reached the end of the trail, (there was a chain link fence with warning signs) everyone stood around chatting, and I crossed the stream to walk back the way we came along the other bank. The other side of the stream was more wild, but I only planned to follow it until I reached the fallen log.

I went a little faster to make sure I didn't hold them up, so they were out of sight when I came to the tree and I navigated the poison ivy to make my way across. After waiting for five minutes for them to show I walked down the path but still didn't see them. Finally, I decided to give Amanda a call, but it went straight to voicemail.

Then I noticed stairs leading up the bank and discovered a second trail up above where the group could have gone without seeing me. I hiked up and raced along to try to catch up with them.

I'd just passed a group of LARPers (women in long dresses with elf ears and men carrying foam swords) when Amanda called and confirmed they had taken a different path. I saw them in the distance, across the overgrown field, so I hurried to cut them off, but they disappeared into the trees. I called again to report my position, and we played phone tag until I finally caught up with them at the edge of the park.

Back at the house, we started dinner, foccia and salmon, and had cocktails on Jeanne's covered porch. Amanda dragged me across the street to spy on some baby birds in the neighbor's shubbery. Jeanne told us Deke Slayton's daughter lived there.

We put some music on the house speakers, and I was in the kitchen when Jeanne came in with a bottle of champagne to celebrate the news that Amanda and I were married. She said "I knew they were married, but I didn't expect Amanda to tell me about it."

We learned her poodle was name nutty brown because that was the name of a street in Austin that made her laugh. Amanda's comment was "Look at this elegant motherfucker!"

We retired early when Aunt Jeanne announced she'd gotten up at 4:45 that morning. Amanda wanted to get up early to chase the golden cheeked warbler