Nature Never Rests
Circle B Bar Reserve feels alive in a way that doesn’t just stir - it hums, squeaks, and soars. The gator babies are first to greet me, their tiny squeaks like sci-fi laser guns echoing from the water’s edge. It’s absurd and delightful, a soundtrack of nature’s smallest hunters.
Gnatcatchers are perpetual motion machines, darting out like arrowheads to snatch invisible insects mid-flight.
Nearby, a Yellow-rumped Warbler flits through the branches, its buttery patch catching the faint light.
Above, Sandhill Cranes carve lines into the sky, their synchronized flight so precise it feels choreographed.
Below, Black-bellied Whistling Ducks descend with quiet grace, settling into a flock, preening as if they’ve nowhere else to be.
On the water, a Little Blue Heron stands poised, all focus and elegance, before suddenly taking flight - swift and deliberate - disappearing to the far side of the marsh, leaving ripples where stillness once was. Here, many moments hold movement, as if the world itself refuses to rest.
