Anyway, after having enough of this view, I walked back down to the park and along the river edge. I was waylaid several times more for photographer-duty. Certainly a lot of different people about. After taking a couple of shots for a group of Japanese students, I sauntered upstream and watched the rapids and looked at some of the flora on the side. As I stood watching the river and looking at the bright flecks of flower color dabbling the greenery here and there, part of the greenery underneath me rustled. A head popped out, cautiously peering about.
What, another beaver?, I thought. Am I being followed by beavers? First the Lyndhurst one, now...I do have the teeth for becoming their leader, but still...and this fella didn't quite look like a beaver. What was it? A muskrat? A vole? I wasn't quite as up on my riverside mammals as I should have been.
It dawned on me, after a moment for my memory banks to run through my massive internal taxonomy lists, that it must be a woodchuck. I'd have to double-check next time I could find a picture of one (yeah, it's a woodchuck). I don't run into a lot of them in San Antonio. He was very funny. He was wary about all the people nearby, up and down the walkway, but apparently I was invisible to him (those ninja powers kicking in again). He came out further to double-check the path--there were some people some yards down the path. In the meantime he set his head on my foot. I was a tree. A tree with a spotlight in its branches, I guess. It was all I could do not to guffaw over this, or jump and startle him silly. Instead I just took some pictures of him, aiming straight down.
He seemed confused, like he knew I was nearby, but just couldn't see or hear me for some reason. Miss Invisibility again. He went on about his business, as I watched, delighted. Eventually he went back into the weeds and I mosied up the path.