The best stories usually start with bad decisions. This one started with a helicopter.
I had spent most of the day inside working when I stepped outside to take out the trash and heard the unmistakable sound of rotor blades overhead.
I looked up and spotted a helicopter working the fields across from Mobberly Farms.
No planning. No preparation. Just an opportunity.
I ran back inside, grabbed my camera, my keys, and headed out.
At first, it looked like the helicopter was heading north, so I jumped on FM 1385 thinking I could intercept it near the crossroads. Like many plans, that one lasted about five minutes.
The helicopter turned around and headed in the opposite direction.
For a moment, I thought I had missed my chance.
As I made my way back, I noticed it was actually working fields along FM 428. I headed west, and before long there it was, flying low over the crops, making pass after pass across the field.
Success.
I pulled over and finally started taking pictures.
The evening couldn’t have been better. The clouds were thick enough to add texture to the sky, but not so dark that they killed the light. The helicopter stood out perfectly against the backdrop as it moved back and forth across the field.
Then reality reminded me that nature always gets a vote.
Without warning, I felt a sharp burning sensation in my feet.
Fire ants.
Not one or two.
An entire colony.
Apparently, in my excitement to photograph the helicopter, I had skipped an important step: looking where I was standing.
After a quick retreat and some creative dancing that I’m thankful nobody witnessed, I kicked off my shoes and moved to safer ground. The photo session continued, this time barefoot on a rural Texas road.
The helicopter kept working.
The clouds kept cooperating.
And I kept shooting.
Later that evening, curiosity got the better of me. A quick search of the tail number, N67130, revealed it was a Bell 206B helicopter. It’s funny how a simple photo chase can turn into learning a little history about the machine you spent the evening following.
By the time I headed home, I had a memory card full of photos and a fresh appreciation for a few things.
First, fire ants are not to be underestimated.
Second, knowing the backroads around where you live is more valuable than most people realize. Had I not known the area, I probably would have lost the helicopter after that first wrong turn.
Most importantly, life doesn’t always send invitations.
Sometimes opportunities show up while you’re taking out the trash.
You can ignore them and go back inside, or you can grab your camera, jump in the truck, and see where they lead.
Yesterday, that decision led me to a helicopter, a country road, and a story worth telling.
