Category: WildLife

Opossums Love OBach

What can be more wonderful than dining out on freshly offered seeds?

Why, dining out on freshly offered seeds while listening to Glenn Gould play OBach, of course.

So says Ogilvie the Opossum

Sometimes I encounter people who say Gould wasn’t that good.

I smile, nod, and walk away.

If I dare, if the individual making such a statement seems willing, I’ll ask what their statement is based on.

Being honest, more often than not their statement is based on hearsay (a third cousin to “heresy” linguistically) or a profound incompetence and ignorance of music.

Okay, sometimes it’s not so profound.

It’s still incompetence and ignorance.

Fortunately, such does not deter Ogilvie, who is a wise, if somewhat aged, Opossum.

Enjoy.

 

Neither Snow Nor Rain

Turkeys in Winter.

Forget that this post is being published in May. Just go with it.

Ah, turkeys in winter.

A glorious lot of them.

Making a mess in our backyard.

Turkeys, wonderful creatures that they are, have no knowledge of sanitation.

We venture forth, seed offerings in hand, they gather, …

And poop.

Indiscriminantly.

We say, “Hey, human walking here.”

And they respond, “Gobble, gobble,” and after a moment’s deliberation, “Gobble!”

Enjoy.

 

They ain’t tiny little raccoons no more

Children grow.

It is the nature of things.

Wonderful cliche, that, don’t you think? It is the nature of things? Alternately fatalistic and dismissive. An admixture of “that’s the way it happens” and “big deal.”

I don’t accept fatalism or dismissiveness.

I know they exist. I know other people have them as part of their raison d’etre.

I do not.

Celebrate while you can, that’s me. Live it up. Enjoy. Our moments are precious and few.

Rejoice in the continuation of life. It will not always be there for us to savor.

And in the meantime, our children grow.

My concern?

Who will care for The Wild behind our home when Susan and I pass.

For that matter and due to the construction on the other side of the wood, will there still be wildlife here when Susan and I pass.

I’m reminded of those last few scenes in Silent Running (a classic).

And for now, they ain’t tiny little raccoons no more.

Enjoy.

 

Many Children

We are blessed with many children.

Children who do not ask for money, the car, the latest mobile, their own car, vacations in places unknown, …

Peanuts. That’s what our children want.

Peanuts and cookies.

The outside children.

Our inside child wants food and treats.

We yield.

To all.

We have them for such a little while, why not?

 

The Flock

Turkey, according to many traditions, is a sign of abundance. Of wealth (of spirit, of person, of being. Not necessarily of pocket).

Imagine our wealth upon seeing this glorious flock parade into our yard.

And of course, one must reward wealth with wealth, which is to say, share one’s abundance (and this time, yes, it can be of pocket).

Turkeys know there is safety here. Good, that, as on the far side of our woods – indeed, tearing into it – is some construction. New multi-family housing units.

“New multi-family housing units.”

Isn’t that a wonderfully sterile way to phrase it?

Let them roost in trees as the turkeys do, I say.

At least then all would have an even chance.

So much of mankind’s recent history with The Wild has been one of domination. We are Nature’s experiment with big brains.

You’d think we’d know better.