Category: WildLife

Ophelia and Arabeth

You can eat. But not you. Or you. Or you.

It’s always a delight when friends get together and dine.

Arabeth, one of our more recent foxen, recently graced us by accepting our dinner invitation. She was shortly joined by Ophelia, one of our longtime resident opossum.

It’s wonderful (and wise) that two such different beasties commingle so easily.

You’ll notice Arabeth’s concern isn’t Ophelia, it is us.

Humans, you know…

I’ve lived among them many years. Years longer than an individual fox or opossum could. I still don’t understand them.

Given a full table, given more food than they could comfortable eat, some humans will keep others away, forcefully if need be. They won’t even offer the remains to those who are recognizably hungry.

A table so full you can’t possibly eat it all, so plentiful you have no need to store it, and you won’t share?

No wonder The Old Ones are cautious.

 

Violetta and Chrysanthe

To be young, in love, and eternal…

In the dark of night

As the moon rises

As the birds quiet

When only the owls

are heard discussing

the day’s events,

In the silence that ensues

The Old Ones come

To remind us

They were here before us

And they will be here after

Opalina

Say hello, you little cutie, you!

Ah, the young.

Out on their own, discovering themselves, discovering their world, making it, owning it, eating some dogfood.

Remember Ophelia? She had pups.

Every time I went to talk with her when she had pups in her pouch, camera at the ready (me, not her), she shuffled away.

Such private creatures.

Opalina is, we think, one of Ophelia’s pups due to markings.

Also her habit of starting every sentence with “Beware my piercing teeth, Two-legs.”

Whatever.

And such a cutie.

 

Velda, the Hummingbird Moth

Priorities

Returning from errands, we heard a bright buzzing at the head of our driveway.

If this was a bee making this sound,we were in trouble.

But no, not a bee, only Velda, the Hummingbird moth.

Hummingbird moths aren’t common where we live. For that matter, we’ve seen several species appear that were once unknown in these parts. Some species are opportunistic invaders; they come along in cargo ships, in wooden crates and lumber, they hitch rides with families returning from foreign lands. Some such species take hold, others don’t.

Some once-common species move on, some are moved out, some can’t deal with the invading hordes and die out.

I the past twenty years we’ve seen lots of all of these, and Velda The Hummingbird Moth is only the latest.

As beautiful as she is, she’s an indication that language is powerful.

I suspect if Global Warming and remained Global Warming, Velda would have a tougher time here. Bush II’s administration did an incredible job changing language on us. Global Warming became Global Climate Change; much less threatening, almost something to look forward to, hence off the table, hence Global Warming got pulled from the agenda, pushed aside (much like some species), and (for many) forgotten.

People prefer to stick their heads in the sand, me thinks. No idea why. Taking action is…difficult? Well, it’s definitely more difficult than sitting on one’s couch. More noticeable? Well, anytime you do anything someone will notice. People tend to act only when there’s a personal stake involved. I remember laughing at a “Save the World” rally.

Save the World? You think the Earth will disappear or something? Earth will be here long after we’re gone. Stopping saving the world and start saving yourselves! Earth can get along fine without drinkable water and breathable air. It won’t be an Earth we recognize and it’ll still be Earth, probably a little older and a little wiser than when we first climbed down out of the trees millions of years ago, but it’ll get along fine.

Not so us. Take away our water and air and we’re gone in a few seconds, probably less.

I mean, how long can you hold your breath?

I enjoy Velda in my garden.

Not the news she brings.

 

Laws in The Wild

Applying human law to The Wild is the Ultimate Egotism

I republished Nothing Ever Dies of Old Age in The Wild last week in preparation for this week’s post.

Clarissa, a female raccoon with kits of her own (quite shy, haven’t filmed all of them yet), came out for peanuts and cookies with some of her kits and all of Hecate’s kits.

I tossed and spread food as I always do, then noticed Clarissa demurred. She may be shy with me but demure with other raccoons, especially someone else’s kits, she’s not (she’s the one by the pole on the right of the video).

I stayed out quite a while (this video is three clips made across a good chunk of time) and realized she’d hurt her paw. She could barely hold things with it and wasn’t putting any weight on it.

Naturally – or should I say as is Nature’s way – the other raccoons took advantage of her disadvantage to harass, intimidate, and otherwise steal from her.

I cut a nasty scene out of the video.

I know such things occur, I only wish they didn’t. The Wild is more like kids on a playground than diplomats at a table. Humans have laws but those laws only work when everybody agrees to let them work.

The law of The Wild isn’t one of mutual agreement so much as it’s one of balance; One suffers and another does not. One dies and another lives.

Sometimes I break the law. I put out more than enough food and separate the piles so that territories don’t matter. The This is mine and what’s yours is mine law doesn’t apply because it’s too much effort to go and risk conflict than to stay and eat what’s here.

I wish humans could learn that one; if you have enough here, you don’t need to go elsewhere.

But I also know coupled with that is an understanding of “how much is enough.” The Wild knows this in full. Extreme conditions induce aggression – what’s called surplus killing – in The Wild, and I mean extreme conditions. Major meteorological and/or climatic upheaval, for example.

That noted, humans should watch out. The Wild won’t follow your laws.

And you’re not prepared for Its.