The sky these past few mornings is nearly opaque, stained with faint colors like the inside of a seashell.
The air is not crisp as it should be with the calendar proclaiming autumn.
I sit on the east porch, fingers wrapped around a mug of decaf sweetened with maple syrup.
Hummingbirds--still with us--make the first visits of the day to the feeders dangling from the overhang of the porch ceiling.
While I wait for the sun to appear around the corner of the barn, I watch for the squirrel families who live in the trees that line the ravine across the lane.
In the springtime, from this spot on the porch, the gymnastics of the squirrels were easily visible through nearly leafless branches.
Now I take note of a jiggled limb, a cluster of leaves suddenly shaken, and follow the sleek dark bodies as they shimmy down, branch to branch, make a horizontal run and leap to an adjoining tree.
During high summer we grew accustomed to sightings of the foxes--if not daily, on several consecutive mornings during the week. I've expected that they were out and about in the mornings even if I missed seeing them lope across the lower field or trot down the lane to melt into the tree line. Pegging sheets on the line I once caught a flash of movement and turned to see a fox meandering behind the clump of small trees where our camper trailers were parked during the winter of house building.
A special confirmation of the fox family''s continued residence was seeing one saunter boldly across the meadow above the gardens last week as I stood at the kitchen window.
The first owners named the lane leading to the three homes here in reference to the wild turkeys who frequent the area.
When we first came here to begin clearing the house site we saw the turkeys daily. Like the foxes, they seem to disappear for weeks.
Unlike the foxes the turkeys have no discernible routine--they may appear at any time of day or evening.
This group was pecking about below our bedroom windows early one morning.
Turkeys are skittery--as soon as they realize we are aware of their presence, panic ensues.
Deer cross the property--usually grazing across the upper meadow.
We come to think of these creatures possessively--'our foxes'--'our deer.'
It is more accurate to realize that they were here before us; we are the interlopers.
I would like to see your foxes and your turkeys.
ReplyDeleteTerra; The visits of these wild creatures always brightens my day.
DeleteI am happy to know that the fox family is still around. I know that Millie is probably the reason we don't see the foxes here now, even though she would do them no harm.
ReplyDeleteHill Top; We don't have a dog--but our cats often seem to know that the foxes are outside before we are aware of them. We know that raccoons and possums have sometimes come to the back porch to sample cat food--not sure if the foxes would try that.
DeleteSo true. I refer to the animals and birds here as our resident ones. I had a fox visit three nights ago and it headed down to our compost area. It looked thin so of course I have added a few things that it might enjoy for next time. I gladly put out a bit for any hungry animal; just to tied them over.
ReplyDeleteDeb; I have often arranged leftovers temptingly along the edge of the compost pit where they cane be easily found by the foxes or whatever else is out at night searching for food.
DeleteI also think of the visitors as mine. It is wishful thinking, but I do like to believe the the deer, turkeys and pheasants feel happy in their refuge here.
ReplyDeletePhil; I haven't seen pheasants here, although they were a frequent sight when we lived in Wyoming. I suppose if we kept hens who might be a temptation to the foxes we wouldn't give them a welcome. The possums are bad about getting into melons or tomatoes in the garden. Perhaps they are the trade-off for the creatures we are happier to see.
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