Once again, we are blessed

Turkeys…can you ever get enough of them?

This video is from a little over two months back. Just getting to it now.

It is late April as I write this. Turkeys haven’t been around for a bit.

We suspect they’re on their eggs. The nights have been uncharacteristically cool the past few weeks.

We’re expecting late Winter, early Spring temperatures next week.

All of which translates into abundance for predators.

The hens will stay on their eggs to protect them and become prey to coyote, wolf, bear, and wildcat. If they fly off, their eggs are eaten. When they stay, unless the predator isn’t very hungry or the size difference isn’t great enough, they’ll be prey and then the eggs will be eaten.

It is the way of The Wild.

Some say Nature is a cruel mother. Perhaps, by human standards.

Not by those who live in The Wild, who understand its ways.

Our ancestors demonstrated recognizable burial rituals up to 450,000 years ago, basically before we were humans.

Was that the point in time when Nature became a cruel mother?

And is she only cruel when we remember someone’s passing?

The rest of the time, our ancestors – and us to a degree – focused on their own survival, in the moment. Remembering those who’d passed could only be done in moments of rest, of peace, of comfort.

Our ancestors had precious few of those.

At some point burial rituals transformed from making sure those who’d passed would do well wherever they went to hoping we’ll do well when our time comes.

Punishment and Reward became the focus.

Our rituals became ones of control; if I do this, I’ll get that.

Pity.

We created deities to ameliorate our fear of the unknown, all the while refusing to explore the unknown.

Except some did.

Originally, spiritual, eventually, scientific. And both spiritual and scientific serve the same purpose: to provide answers.

Meanwhile, the turkeys sit on their eggs, waiting for them to hatch.

Nature. Patience. Waitful. Watchful.

Enjoy.

 

Sarah and Gladstone Fear Him

Our pup, Boo, is a terror.

Don’t believe me?

Ask some of the Old Ones who visit us. I previously wrote regarding Boo’s dislike of opossum. No idea why he dislikes such wonderful creatures. Certainly nothing we’ve done.

Most recently Boo had issues with another mated pair of Coyote, Sarah and Gladstone.

To us, welcome guests.

To Boo…? Perhaps they mark over his territory and he gets tired to remarking and remarking and remarking.

Don’t you tire of repeating yourself? Once, sure, twice, make sure you say it clearly, but three times and more means they don’t care or aren’t paying attention.

A quote along these lines comes from James Bond’s creator, Ian Fleming; Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.

Personally, I don’t think Boo can count.

But he’s proved me wrong before.

 

Boo does not like Opie

Our dog, Boo, has issues with some wildlife.

We’re not sure why.

We’ve never encouraged it. Quite the opposite. We’re open and friendly with all the Old Ones who visit.

Some times Boo is asleep, wakes up, and see’s me going out to say hello.

He’s jealous.

We’ve explained there are outside friends and inside friends.

We think it’s something more primal.

Something long ago and lost in canine and didelphine memory.

A opossum and a wolf walked into a bar, perhaps, started toasting each other’s good health, someone said something, you know how these things happen.

I doubt it started with an argument over a mate, even though the original Powhatan/Algonquian word means “white dog.”

Maybe an opossum or a dog was slumming, spending time with the other, got caught by their peers and later generations still carry the shame?

Don’t know, except that Boo doesn’t like Opie.

 

Asis on the Hunt

The head of our driveway is ringed by a stone wall crowned with shrubbery.

From a distance it can be mistaken for a sleeping stone giant with a green crewcut.

If it is a sleeping stone giant with a crewcut, Asis does it a favor now and then by grooming it.

The giant’s hair is a haven for chipmunks, mice, voles, all sorts of little fur bellies.

The giant doesn’t seem to mind.

I mean, I’ve never seen it scratch it’s head.

Must be because Asis keeps a steady watch.

Moving quickly, silently, from follicle to follicle, from dandrite to dandrite, hunting hunting hunting.

The Wild takes care of its own.

Two-Legs just need eyes to see, ears to hear, hearts to understand.

Magic is all around, waiting, patient.

And if our kind pass?

The magic will be there for others more willing to see, to listen, to understand.

I’ve heard people crying out, “Save the Earth!” and some such.

Save the Earth from what?

The Earth was here some five billion-plus years before we showed up. It’ll be here some five billion-plus years after we’re gone.

Don’t bother to save the Earth. It doesn’t need us to do that.

Time is better spent saving ourselves.

 

But what’s the fun in that?

 

The Gathering Hordes (of Raccoons)

Humans are in a pandemic as I write this.

Covid-19. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?

Yet the Old Ones still gather daily and nightly in our yard.

I’ve often fretted about making offerings to The Old Ones. I make sure I offer enough to supplement, not enough to fulfill. I want them to find food their normal ways and not grow dependent. I worry what might happen to them once I pass.

Who will care for them?

I forget that they are Old Ones. They have survived human pestilence save humans being pestilence towards them.

I know certain diseases have ravaged wildlife.

I wonder if they know a disease is affecting Two-Legged life, or do they not care. Do they say amongst themselves, “They are Two-Legs. We were here before them, we will be here after them.”

I wonder how long the current pandemic will last. Or will it decimate Two-Legged life? Were the survivalists correct all along? If you’ve ever read Earth Abides or The Stand, you know the next chapter of humanity may not be all that pleasant.

And still, the Old Ones gather.

I’m sure they will after we’re gone.

The question is, how will they remember us.

So I’ll ask; how do you want to be remembered? Enter a comment. I’d like to know.