Tag: The Wild

Shy Jackson

I’ve mentioned before that coyote are cautious creatures.

Case in point, Shy Jackson, a male juvenile out and about for a midday stroll.

Since videoing this, we’ve confirmed loss of habitat on the other side of the woods from us.

This saddens us.

Both our town and the town we abut increase their services and infrastructure in order to lure people forward. This increase in services drives up taxes and the price of homes. The increased tax rate and home price keeps people away from our town and the town we abut.

And also drives current inhabitants to less expensive towns and such.

Which means there’s a housing glut, which drives prices down but forces tax rates up because now police must patrol more vacant properties for migrants, indigents, squatters, and such.

The increase of migrants, indigents, squatters, and such drives insurance rates up.

Which causes construction to decrease. Often at some point during completion. Leaving massive house skeletons on empty, untended lots.

And we still have Old Ones coming into our yard.

We are glad.

 

Scotch, Cigars, Andre Bocelli, and Rabbits

Susan’s rabbits are at it again.

Merrily munching away in our yard.

The rabbits are at the point where they stay out when Susan goes outside. She says hello to them.

Her perky little voice goes, “Hello, Bunnies.”

And they look up, turn an ear in her direction, go back to tender leaves and shoots.

I decided to relax with a Scotch and cigar.

Susan asked me to wait until the rabbits had finished their repast.

It’s always good to know one’s place in their household, don’t you think?

 

Turkeys Don’t Like Shadowfax?

Imagine our chagrin!

There we were, enjoying a little music during lunch, only to learn some people…well…harrumph!

Okay, so it was Turkeys, not people.

I’m not sure when I first encountered Shadowfax. I suspect it was early-mid 1980s. A radio station out of nearby Peterborough, NH, played progressive rock, progressive jazz, and fusion all under the title of “new age.” I learned of Clannad, Peter Gabriel, and many others through them.

Every Friday they did a “Be the nth caller…” thing. They offered all sorts of things from coffee mugs at a local Gas-n-Go to Peter Frampton tickets (back when he started touring again).

For whatever reason, I was the only person who ever called in. I’m not talking “I was always the nth call,” I mean “I was the only person who ever called in.

And I won all sorts of things. The DJs and I got to know each other over the phone (it was the 1980s, remember?) and it got to the point that I would call, give the answer, we’d chat, and I’d tell them to hold the prize for some other giveaway.

Then one day I entered my office, turned on the stereo, and country-western came out of the speakers. I spun the dial. Did another station walk all over them? I called. They completely changed format. None of the DJs I knew were there anymore. All in one day’s time.

I asked what caused the change. New owners. I talked with a tech I knew. Nobody knew it was coming. Everybody came in and were handed a two-week’s severance plus any accrued vacation time.

Life can suck at times. If you let it.

And by the way, Turkeys, it seems, don’t like Shadowfax.

Go figure.

 

Felicity

Earlier this year we met Felicity, a young mother-to-be.

She’s a cutie (as are they all) and stopped by for a little gnosh.

The night before we were entertained by a few females rebuffing one male, Rosco, whose belligerence increased as more and more womens decried, “Hit the road, clown!”

Rosco was not amused.

But what fascinated us (and sorry, we didn’t get any pics) was the females grouping together so Rosco had no opportunities with any of them.

Kind of a “Girls Night Out,” that.

You Go, Girls! You Go!

 

Bunnies

Susan‘s been at it again.

Her day isn’t complete unless she sees her rabbits – whom she calls “bunnies.” They don’t seem to mind when she says it. I say it, though, and …! – and see them she does.

Everywhere.

And at all times of day and night.

I take Boo out for his late night easement and there’s a rabbit sitting on our front steps.

We walk around the block in the early hours and most lawns are bunnied.

Susan leaves swaths of lawn unmowed so the bunnies will have fresh green grass for their nibbling.

Except now, one bunny, is eating seeds. The ones that fall from the birdfeeders.

They’re not suppose to do that.

Susan, of course, wants to put out seed for the bunnies.

I suggested carrot seeds.

Ever hear a bunny laugh?