No bones about it.

More out there than what meets the eye.(PD/Commons.wikimedia.org)

Nothing was better.

Running ahead up the stairs and to the balcony rail.

There. Staring. Giant empty eye sockets. A head as big as me.

Nose to nose with a two-story dinosaur unwrapped.

Real. Solid. Bare bones essence of animal magnetism.

No extra needed: no recorded sounds, period correct landscapes, or thoroughly researched hides that flexed and stretched by mechanical motors.

Filled in the blanks without tech assist.

This is the “new” Morian Hall of Paleontology. Modern. Glossy. But there was something about running up the limestone steps with fossils in them, between the towering Roman columns guarding the door at the old entrance that made it seem like going back through time. (HMNS.org)

Everyone loves dinosaurs at some point.

Really young kids, like 3 or 4, are fascinated by skulls and bones and the thought that that’s what’s under their own skin. They handle and closely examine them as only a little kid can.

They only get spooked by bones when older – after adults show them that.

No bones about it. Sticks with you.

And there they are:  like a bare bones wagon train rolling across the plains. So plain. ©

One of the coolest things about traveling the Panhandle is spotting The Walkers.

A bit like the White Walkers in Game of Thrones with their mindless march onward. Taking direction from the one.

Actually they are robotic irrigation devices carrying a row of sprinklers and slowly roll, pivoting in a circle.

They have a few tiny lights on them so if you look hard, they can be spotted at night. Useful to keep from getting knocked down by a uncaring Walker at night if monitoring water usage.

The area was unusually green this time, so The Walkers seemed to be mostly sidelined and waiting for the coach to call them up. Dependable, loyal, and true, they don’t mind waiting their turn to roll.

Another field. Another crop. Another obedient well-trained lineup.©

For some reason, The Walkers remind me of a line of dachshunds harnessed one in front of another.

There’s an elemental relationship to the Strandbeests.

Or maybe like some ancient dinosaur who woke up, shook off the dirt and is slowly testing it’s ability to move.

No bones about it, there’s stuff out there to be seen and to be considered.

Anyone up for a game of I Spy or What if?

Everyone can play. Even if over 3.

Who knows what walks.

Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.

Highly entertaining: a sprinkler you could bark at and chase. No doubt Molly Malamute or a pack of preschoolers would be game for this.©

 

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