The Food Chain
I feel fortunate to live in a hillside neighborhood surrounded by wildlife that provides abundant entertainment and a few challenges.
The rose garden outside our kitchen window offers daily shows in addition to the beautiful blooms that flourish within. It hosts a bird feeder that draws a variety of winged creatures who stop by for a sip of water, a bath, or some bird seed. As I prepare a meal or clean up afterwards, I watch finches, sparrows, blue birds, ring-necked doves, and an assortment of colorful creatures arrive. At least four birds fed this morning, while others lined up in our olive trees, roses, lemon bushes, and along the fence. Some light on the bird bath and timidly sip or dip a foot in the water while others dive in, splashing about and claiming the bath as their own. Certain days I must fill it three or four times.
The birds’ dropped seeds form a feast for an errant squirrel who has begun stopping by. He stuffs his cheeks full of seed hulls, chomps away, and then rests atop a border wall, belly bulging in the morning sun. He doesn’t dally long because red-tailed hawks and turkey vultures often hover nearby.
The bird feeder draws more than birds and squirrels. We’ve moved it three times because it attracted rats, who have always lived in the hills but seem to have multiplied since the Thomas fire drove them out of the surrounding hillsides. Twice I’ve opened the barbecue cover to grill dinner and found a rat staring me in the face. I closed the barbecue, ran inside, turned on the oven, and called the exterminator. The rats have now migrated to our neighbors’ properties, where they’ve become food for the coyotes that have grown hungrier since the fire destroyed their habitat.
We find the rats and coyotes challenging and try to keep them at bay. We know that they lost their homes, as did many of our neighbors. Rabbits were also driven out by the flames. We’d spotted several in the neighborhood camped on front lawns in past months. That’s why we were delighted to see a bunny venture into the rose garden the other morning—at least until she discovered a nearby rose bush and began stripping its leaves off, one by one. Seeking breakfast, the rabbit seemed oblivious to my husband and me, who watched her through the window we’ve dubbed our “window on the world,” because of its great views. This bunny slowly entered the garden, deftly removed the rose leaves, and chewed them as we quietly viewed. She then stood on her hind legs and tore off a large branch, which she discovered she couldn’t take back to her den. We picked up the dead branch a few days later and haven’t seen her since. We did notice that the bush has a lot fewer leaves.
When we live in close proximity to nature, we never know what will appear next. We vote for birds and bunnies.
The Blog Bog
Writing a blog feels like sitting down and sharing a cup of coffee with a good friend. It’s a regular activity, both comfortable and familiar. I also enjoy sharing my musings immensely.
So why did I stop writing? Perhaps I became bogged down with life. One of my greatest joys was obscured by appointments, illnesses, surgeries, and a raging fire that almost destroyed our home and burned through a good portion of our neighborhood while displacing us for several weeks.
We know how lucky we are that our home still stands, seemingly untouched by the relentless flames and smoke. We did, however, have a good deal of remediation to deal with. We began the process of restoration in January and still work to complete but prefer to do it at our own pace. Besides, the ashes continue to fall, nearly nine months later. As I observe neighbors engaged in restoring their homes and gardens, I realize that life and hope have returned to our small city by the sea, once inundated with smoke and ash.
This summer I’ve found joy in simple pleasures like watching the birds take their morning baths, seeing the resident squirrel sneak into the garden, sitting in our front yard while the foliage-laden birch branches sway in the summer breeze, and exploring the neighborhood with our dogs, greeting old friends and becoming acquainted with new arrivals.
One simple pleasure I’ve missed a great deal is writing. And now I will continue this long-neglected activity, one post at a time.
Found and Lost
Thirteen years ago tomorrow I made my first contact with my birth family. I was in my late fifties, and the reason I sought them out was to discover my health history. A few years earlier I had been diagnosed with a rare bleeding disorder, and I’d undergone many procedures to treat it. My initial hope was to find out if anyone else in the family had this disorder.
Fortunately, I found my first cousin. When he asked who I was and what I wanted, he was incredulous and said he’d get back to me. In his words, “I had a right to know.” My cousin remained true to his word, and the next day he put me in touch with my birth mother, brother, and sister. (My father, who married my birth mother when I was ten months old and she was expecting my brother, had died only thirteen months earlier. They remained married for fifty-five years.)
I had no expectations. (more…)
Wild Kingdom
A few weeks ago I almost stepped on a small snake as it slithered across the path in my front yard. I jumped back, startled, and the snake continued on its way along the side of our house. My heart beat rapidly as our dog Beau and I ran inside to share the news and look up the type of snake online. I discovered that we had just seen a king snake, a good one to have around because it’s a predator of rattlesnakes and rodents.
This wasn’t the first time I encountered a snake near the house. Years ago, on a hot July Fourth weekend, a gopher snake sought shade between a planter and the wall near our front door. My husband and our dog Shannon had not noticed it when they went out. I was about to leave with Shannon’s brother, Duffy, when I saw the snake stretched across the doorsill. “Step over it,” my husband said. (more…)