I can’t help but feel there’s something unique about being in Austin, beside the Colorado River around dusk on a spring evening. Just across the Congress Bridge, corporate America looms large, and this being Texas, I mean LARGE. But here I am, with perhaps a thousand people quietly lining the bridge, sitting in the park, or gently kayaking around the pillars, waiting for thousands and thousands of bats to emerge into the twilight.

Unlike almost everywhere else we’ve been on our Easter vacation in this extraordinary state of Texas, there are no illuminated signs, no lines, and really nothing much to buy. For the record, there’s a hawker half-heartedly trying to sell light sabers, and one guy wanders around offering pecan cookies to the good-natured and quiet crowd. There are also two small boats on the river with paying passengers anxiously scanning the voids under the bridge skyline.

Perhaps it’s because we’re in Austin, where the SoCo (South of Congress) area is known for being very relaxed and typical of the state capital. Austin has a very different feel from the other parts of Texas I’ve visited, which, to be fair, isn’t many, as Texas is bigger than the whole of the UK. But having spent time in San Antonio and Houston, I don’t get the sense that those cities would bother with celebrating bat watching “downtown.”

It gets dark quickly this far south, and as it does, the lights of the skyscrapers twinkle, and the corporate logos flash their brassy statements to a disinterested audience of all ages, crowding the handrails and sitting on the grassy embankment. My teenage sons are, of course, bored and delight in pointing out that bats are black, as is the sky, so how can we see them?

But being gifted and wise as only teenage males can be, they endure their parents’ and middle sister’s curiosity about the hoped-for natural phenomenon. Surely, the magic of the natural world isn’t entirely lost on these two? Actually, it isn’t, and they are aware of the quiet and respectful crowd. The wait is punctuated by their wry humor as the black bats don’t show up despite the red floodlight from the boats playing across the concrete arches.

Perhaps it’s because it’s Easter and I’m reflecting on the promise of a new beginning, but I’m reminded of a Thomas Hardy poem where the poet hopes that the oxen in a winter stable will kneel on Christmas Eve. On reflection, I suspect that waiting for these bats has made me really grateful for the simple but really important things. I’m using the twilight to ruffle the hair of my boys and sneak a cuddle from my girls as I chuckle inwardly at the absolute joy of knowing that there are real riches on this side of the river as well as those promised by the corporate logos “downtown.”

Even if there aren’t many bats tonight, they’ll be there tomorrow and the next day, and I’m certain that there will also be quiet folks of Austin enjoying the prospect of a timeless phenomenon and appreciating the importance of harmony with nature in a world dominated by man.

The Mexican free-tail bats fly out from their nesting sites under South Congress Bridge to feed at sunset (typically after 8 pm) from April to October, with the largest numbers being seen in July and August. Spectators line the bridge or sit on the grassy bank on the southeast side of the bridge, and it’s also popular to hire a kayak or take a riverboat tour to view the bats from the water. There is free public parking near the grassy area on the southeast side of the bridge after 6 pm.

Boat tours are offered by Capital Cruises Boat Tours ($10 adults, $5 children excluding tax) and Lone Star Riverboat ($10 adults, $7 children excluding tax), both of which are located on the south shore to the west of the bridge under the Hyatt-Regency Hotel. The T.G.I. Friday’s restaurant in the Radisson Hotel on the northeast shore has a bat viewing deck. Bat tours by kayak are offered by Live Love Paddle (from $50 per person plus tax).