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Midsummer
Happy Summer Solstice, everyone! I did ... absolutely nothing; I'm definitely not over my cold, as evidenced by the fact that every time I lie down with the laptop on my knees to get some writing done, I fall asleep.
It's full summer here, in reality as well as technicality; the trees are as thickly leafed as they'll get, and the four-footed neighbors are active too. Last night I took Lucky for a late-night walk around the edges of the gravel pit (broad daylight at midnight never gets old) and he alerted on an inconspicuous patch of weeds. He wasn't really scared, just very intensely interested in it, and I had to stare for awhile until I figured out what he'd detected: a large porcupine sitting in a patch of fireweed, about fifteen feet away from us, eating the fresh greens. I had to look for a while longer to be certain it was a porcupine, because this is the first time I've seen one from that close up, on the ground, that wasn't in defensive mode -- annoyed or scared porcupines raise their hackles and the quills stand up in a white ridge across their back, which is very distinctive looking. With the quills down, they just look like a big muskrat.
Lucky has fortunately never developed a porcupine-bothering habit, so he stayed by my side obediently and followed me back to the house when I was tired of watching it. I thought about coming back with a camera, but decided not to bother the porky any more -- he could eat his meal in peace.
Today the dogs and I hiked a little ways up First Chance Creek, until I started seeing really alarmingly fresh moose tracks in the sandbars -- an adult and a little spring calf, their prints looking just as crisp and damp as ours. They could not have been there more than an hour before us, and probably less, so I ended up turning back because the creek is very twisty and overgrown, the visibility is bad, and the absolute last thing I want to do is run into an angry mother moose in a thicket.
I know there have been foxes around because I can smell them when I'm out with the dogs, but so far, we haven't had any trouble with them and the chickens. I think the chicken pen is fox-proof, unless they can climb, but I don't want to test that theory.
It's full summer here, in reality as well as technicality; the trees are as thickly leafed as they'll get, and the four-footed neighbors are active too. Last night I took Lucky for a late-night walk around the edges of the gravel pit (broad daylight at midnight never gets old) and he alerted on an inconspicuous patch of weeds. He wasn't really scared, just very intensely interested in it, and I had to stare for awhile until I figured out what he'd detected: a large porcupine sitting in a patch of fireweed, about fifteen feet away from us, eating the fresh greens. I had to look for a while longer to be certain it was a porcupine, because this is the first time I've seen one from that close up, on the ground, that wasn't in defensive mode -- annoyed or scared porcupines raise their hackles and the quills stand up in a white ridge across their back, which is very distinctive looking. With the quills down, they just look like a big muskrat.
Lucky has fortunately never developed a porcupine-bothering habit, so he stayed by my side obediently and followed me back to the house when I was tired of watching it. I thought about coming back with a camera, but decided not to bother the porky any more -- he could eat his meal in peace.
Today the dogs and I hiked a little ways up First Chance Creek, until I started seeing really alarmingly fresh moose tracks in the sandbars -- an adult and a little spring calf, their prints looking just as crisp and damp as ours. They could not have been there more than an hour before us, and probably less, so I ended up turning back because the creek is very twisty and overgrown, the visibility is bad, and the absolute last thing I want to do is run into an angry mother moose in a thicket.
I know there have been foxes around because I can smell them when I'm out with the dogs, but so far, we haven't had any trouble with them and the chickens. I think the chicken pen is fox-proof, unless they can climb, but I don't want to test that theory.
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