Welcome to this issue of Stumped by Nature, where we notice nature lurking just beyond our screens, curate a list of outside-y events in Austin, and build community with other folks in the thick of the startup ecosystem.
In this week’s issue:
🦃 The birds who become neighborhood emblems
🌤️ Upcoming outdoors events
💘 Valentine-like events
Let’s dig in!
-Nicole
PS. ATX Outsiders launches February 16! There are only a handful of Founding Member spots remaining. Are you ready to meet great people, find niche outside events, and celebrate your outdoors wins? Join us!
NATURE SPOTLIGHT
I have some good news, and I have some bad news.
The good news: sometimes a community comes together around the awe of nature.

The bad news: last week, Dolores, the Northwest Hills resident turkey, died.
This week, we’re looking into three shining stars from the nature world who’ve reclaimed some corridors of Austin’s urban sprawl as a unifying force of delight for neighbors.
With particular emphasis on the human behavior around this, because what is it about a bird that can turn strangers into a devoted fan club?
Athena the Owl, Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, 2021-Present
For the past several years, a great horned owl named Athena has nested in an archway at the Wildflower Center, raising owlets with a global audience via webcam.
There’s something deeply compelling about watching a predator be gentle—fierce talons carefully rotating eggs, the mundane intimacy of raising a family (which happens to involve regurgitating rodent pieces).
People log in from kitchens in Ohio and offices in Japan to check on the owlets. Sharing observations in chat forums. Celebrating first flights. Mourning when nature takes its course.
In-person visitors pause by the fish pond, trying to catch a glimpse—brief moments of open wonder that strike up small conversations with strangers.
It’s the kind of attention we’re capable of giving when we focus on one of a type, instead of a vague sense of the whole.
Related: if routine serves us, we should see Athena return within the next month. What. A. Treat.
Geraldine the Guinea Hen, Rainey Street, ?-2014
Geraldine was a Guinea hen who lived on Rainey Street in the early 20teens, and she pecked her way into our collective souls.

Geraldine claimed Rainey Street during a liminal window. The neighborhood was shifting from mostly Hispanic homes—people who’d lived there for decades—to house bars, then to high rises. There were notable holdouts during the transition, residents who resisted, despite huge money offers. That sense of resistance to change was palpable, even as the transformation felt inevitable.

2012 Austin skyline
Not pictured: clouds of bats, squeaking
From parking in the vacant lot that Macklemore borrowed during SX, to mastering free parallel parking, to watching, wide-eyed, at the parking meter installation effort, I was in my own pocket of in-between on Rainey during Geraldine’s reign. Grad school had a 2013 start date, but I was still working three hourly jobs—overnight shifts at an emergency domestic violence shelter, base-painting sculptures for a folk artist, hawking boxes during a 1:00am truck unloading shift at The Container Store. I knew things had changed—that the see-what-sticks phase of my early-twenties had a foundation solidifying, that my Rainey Street-dwelling then-boyfriend, now ex-husband and I were headed somewhere, and I was suspended, waiting for time to catch up.

May I suggest the ticketing begins at, say, noon? Or perhaps that we have adequate guest parking?
Through all this: Geraldine, charging cars, slurping bugs off of tires, pecking her reflection into submission. Geraldine wasn’t waiting for her life to catch up. No heavy weight of unrealized potential, no bracing for change. Geraldine just existed, quite boldly. Change just happened, quite boldly.
Geraldine was the inevitable surprise after sifting through I-35 traffic, a consistent force of joy, and a small reminder that you can be exactly where you are, exactly as you are, with nothing required of you except noticing.
My social circle referred to her as Turkey Tom, knowing we were quite wrong in our identification, but with zero accurate language to encapsulate her.

The plink of beak on chrome.
Rainey Street offered exactly what she needed: proximity to the lake, pre-smooshed bugs on fenders, relatively low traffic during the day, and enough green space to roost.

She was there because urban environments, when they still have cracks of green and access to water, can be ideal for certain species. The same reasons humans wanted to develop Rainey Street—lake views, downtown proximity, evening breezes—were the reasons Geraldine thrived there.
Until she didn't.
In August 2014, the community mourned her loss. There was a memorial concert at Craft Pride, a little mural at the newly opened SkyHouse, and, a year later, a restaurant named after her in the newly constructed Hotel Van Zandt. The street that transformed around her made sure she wasn’t forgotten.
Dolores the Wild Turkey, Northwest Hills, 2025-2026
Dolores, the Northwest Hills wild turkey, was a window of delight. Then, as often happens when humans and wildlife share space, we struck again.
My friend Mehmet Celik, historian and NW Hills resident, reflected on her brief life:
Dolores: A Neighborhood Turkey Who Brought a Community Together
On December 15, 2025, a resident of Northwest Hills spotted an unexpected sight along the side of the road: a lone turkey. Curious and amused, they posted on the neighborhood Facebook page, “Anyone missing a turkey?” Three days later, another resident reported that the turkey was still roaming—and thriving. Just days before Christmas, a third neighbor chimed in with a similar post, confirming that the bird had officially become a neighborhood fixture.

Within a week, Northwest Hills residents had begun referring to her as “our neighborhood friendly turkey.” Photos appeared daily, capturing her wandering through different corners of the neighborhood. On January 1, 2026, the Facebook group updated its cover photo with a newly designed logo featuring a striking image of the turkey at its center. That same day, the group launched a poll to name her. Two names quickly rose to the top—Dolores and Margo—with Dolores ultimately winning (though some neighbors spelled it “Delores”).
The enthusiasm didn’t stop there. Residents printed and distributed hundreds of stickers featuring Dolores’s photo. She became something of a local celebrity—often spotted along Far West Boulevard, a busy road that raised concerns for her safety and that of passing drivers. Calls were made to Austin Wildlife Rescue and even the Austin Police Department in hopes of protecting her, but Dolores always managed to evade capture. In response, neighbors installed signs reading “Slow Down: Turkey Crossing” to alert drivers.

Dolores inspired creativity and joy. Neighbors shared humorous images, including a mock bottle label for “Turkey 101 ‘Dolores’ Bourbon, Northwest Hills, Austin, TX.” Photos showed her attending outdoor events, visiting a library, perched atop a fire truck, or standing watch from a tree as if surveying her domain.
When a winter freeze hit Austin on January 26, residents worried about her survival. Relief and celebration followed when sightings confirmed that Dolores had weathered the cold.

Sadly, on January 29, the neighborhood received heartbreaking news. A resident shared:
“It is with a heavy heart that I share the news that Dolores has passed. I found her huddled against the curb behind my house last night—she had been hit by a car. She was barely alive and in shock. Austin Wildlife Rescue Center was closed for the evening, so I placed her in our heated garage with water overnight. When I checked on her this morning, she had passed away.”
Dolores was later taken to the Austin Wildlife Rescue Center, where she was given proper care.
As one resident noted, Dolores brought “a lot of fun, happiness, and togetherness to our wonderful community.” In her brief, wandering life, this brave turkey reminded Northwest Hills of the unexpected connections that nature can spark—and how even a single wild creature can bring an entire neighborhood together.

These birds become focal points because they're strange enough to be remarkable—an owl nesting in plain view, a guinea hen in downtown Austin, a turkey wandering suburban streets—but consistent enough to become familiar.
They give us something to notice together. Until they don't.
Geraldine got hit by a car. Dolores got hit by a car. Athena will leave again when the season ends. The spectacular is temporary. And so are we.
Maybe that's why we rally around these birds—because of their fragility. They're doing what we're all doing: showing up, existing boldly, until change catches up.
So what do we notice in the meantime: the mockingbird that's been singing from the same power line for three weeks. The red anemone that burst open just after the winter storm. The first monarch of the season.
Streets transform. Birds die. Lives shift. We grieve what doesn't survive the transition—the imagined futures, the version of ourselves we thought we were building, the certainty we thought we had.
And still: the wild just beyond the window, if we look.
UPCOMING EVENTS
🗓️ February 5: Seed Gathering at St. John Branch of Austin Public Library
🗓️ February 6: Pitch and Run ATX: Run with founders, funders, and folks in tech
🗓️ February 7: The Board Walks Bring a thoughtful topic, and get your steps in
🗓️ February 7: Morning Bird Walk with a Ranger
🗓️ February 7: Water Color at McKinney Falls : Materials provided
🗓️ February 7: Birding and Nature Hike at Nalle Bunny Run
🗓️ February 8: Family Yoga at the Wildflower Center
🗓️ February 8: Lunar New Year at UMLAUF
🗓️ February 8: Jupiter, Star Clusters, Gas Cloud at Reimers Observatory
🗓️ February 9: Waterloo Greenway: Spring park prep. BYOShears
🗓️ February 11: Introduction to Raptors with the Audubon Society
🗓️ February 12: Austin Ruck Club Loaner rucks available!

HOW ROMANTIC
Because planning ahead is sexy.
💘 February 7 + 8: Galentine’s Gal Hike Dress code: pink, obviously
💘 February 12: Fossils & Flowers Custom bouquets, postcards on an antique printing press, charm bracelets, AND bones? What more do you need?
💘 February 13: Valentine’s Candle Dipping in Lockhart
💘 February 13: Galentine’s Vision and Vibes: Vision boarding at the Wildflower Center
💘 February 13: Paranormal Investigations: There may be ghosts
💘 February 14: Plant Party: Made with love
💘 February 14: Flower Arranging Workshop at Zilker Botanical Gardens
💘 February 14: Valentine’s Day Market: at East Austin Succulents
💘 February 16: Invasive Species Removal workday at Jacob’s Well. Physically remove the toxic relationships in your ecosystem. Lean into the post-Valentine’s Day symbolism here.

LOCAL FARMERS’ MARKETS
👩🌾 Arboretum Food & Artisan Market Saturdays 11am-3pm
👩🌾 Barton Creek Farmers Market Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 Lakeline Farmers Market Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 SFC Farmers’ Market Downtown Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 SFC Farmers’ Market Sunset Valley Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 Texas Farmers’ Market at Bell Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 Texas Farmers’ Market at Mueller Sundays 10am-2pm
That’s all for this week!
In the meantime, I hope you are delighted by the mundane flora and/or fauna in your daily life.
-Nicole
OPTIONAL SIDE QUESTS
🪵 Do you need to commission a writer? I’m happy to discuss projects that might make me cry in public/funnel my experiential/existential dread into essays like this one.
🪵 Is this newsletter not your vibe? Forward it to your enemies to make them suffer too.
💰It’s safe to assume there are affiliate links, and I’ll monetarily benefit from any purchases you make. Hooray, capitalism! So far, this newsletter has generated $3.46 of cold hard cash. 💸





