East of the power lines between Gramercy and North Braeswood Boulevard
The trickle of water emerges from a giant culvert and heads south in a straight line, carved years ago by machinery, bounded by a grass-covered levy to the east and power lines to the west. The water has a brownish hue, and at times a faint whiff of sewage speaks to origins other than rainwater. But the ditch that runs parallel to the power lines between Gramercy and North Braeswood, protected by a fluke combination of rights-of-way and a lack of urban encroachment, harbors an array of wildlife that would make a state park proud. In the early-morning mists, egrets, herons and other waterfowl wade in the shallow water and peck at invisible morsels. A family of bright green South American parrots that nest high in the transformer towers forages among the trees overlooking the ditch. Box turtles roam the steep, wildflower-covered banks or plop beneath the surface at any sign of intrusion. Beneath the wires, horses graze along the fence that separates them from the water. Block out the white noise of the highways, and the place might as well be a hundred miles away.