You Can't Make This Shit Up

I wish I had photographed the apple tree when it was full of ripening golden delicious apples. It was going to be quite a harvest. I culled the bruised and rotting apples everyday and left them on the ground for the deer to eat. We were just days away from apple pies. But Thursday morning, Roger came in and said that maybe a deer had broken two big branches off the tree trying to get to the apples. So, I went out to see the damage. Whoa, two branches down, and ALL OF THE APPLES WERE GONE! That's when I knew it wasn't a deer at all. It had to be a bear. There were a lot of apples, and many were high in the tree. No way a deer could get up there, but a bear could. And that was that. No more apples. It was disappointing, especially since Roger had pruned that tree so beautifully in the early spring, and it was more productive than in the previous years. Oh well.

On Saturday, we took one of our usual walks. We call it the low-ditch trail. We head out past our neighbor's house and then down a dirt road, climb a little irrigation ditch fence, and walk along the ditch. The trail takes us up to "three horse meadow" and then up to the reservoir (that feeds the local ditches). On the dirt road we came upon a huge pile of scat. We thought it might be bear scat, so I photographed it as a kind of "confirmation" that bear have been out and about in our neighborhood. It had a bit of fur, and we assumed since bears are omnivores, that kind of made sense.

 

We moved on up the trail and came upon another huge pile of scat. This one was so different than the first pile, it made me question my first assumption that the first pile was bear scat. This second pile was so OBVIOUSLY bear scat. The size alone was enough to confirm it. It was interesting to note how much large scat was on the trail. We'd noticed some huge tracks on the dusty dirt road as well.

We hiked further up the trail and came upon another huge pile of bear scat. This one literally made us laugh out loud. It was full of our apples. We had been hoping to find a real sign that a bear or two had made off with our apples, and here it was. Such a fantastic confirmation. We loved it.

Of course we would have loved an apple pie even more! (Going out to photograph the forlorn tree bereft of apples, we found this one beauty remaining!)

And one final note, we're wondering if that first large pile of scat could be from a cougar. It is much bigger than any coyote scat we've ever seen. What do you think? The quarter in the photos is for perspective.

River Day

The temperatures finally cooled down. Last week it was still in the sweltering 90s, and this week we're barely breaking 70. The low Tuesday morning was 43. We can't go from air conditioning to heat in one week, we just won't do it. So we piled another blanket on the bed and laughed about how there is no climate change. We know that transition from season to season isn't always incrementally easy, and we try to explain that rationally to our tomatoes and peppers. They don't listen. Neither does the corn. Blah blah blah, humans are so full of words.

We took advantage of the cooler temps to finally get out to the river. We hadn't been there since we took my mom the day before she flew back home last February. What happened after she left was a late WINTER, that was followed by a relentlessly hot SUMMER. We seem to hardly have spring and fall anymore.

So we came to the river. It was flowing so low at the end of a wicked hot, dry summer. And yet it is still so beautiful and so calming. We hiked in on the dusty trail and arrived at the "clothing optional" Hoyt's Crossing. Three people were already there. A naked woman was reading a book, perched on a beautiful slab of granite next to the green waters. A man was across the river, sitting contemplatively on a big rock. Another man was walking across the river, from the far side to ours. We met him as he came ashore. His pants were rolled up, and yet all askew, one pant leg much higher than the other. He was smaller than we expected as he approached us. I was actually taller than he was. He started exuberantly describing the tunnel on the other side of the river. He had hiked it once before, 28 years ago. He found it again, but didn't go all the way through this time. He was beautiful and small. He had a pronounced hunchback and a stunningly magnificent face. We listened and were enthralled by his excitement. Then, we walked down river a bit, and he went to sit with the naked woman reading.

I took pictures, but find photographing the river a very challenging thing.

Taking The Crazy Path

We're going down a path we probably shouldn't go down, but we can't stop ourselves. It's just the way the problem presented itself and our crazy desire to do something about it. 

We had neighbors. They sold their house earlier this year. We didn't really know them except that we had talked a few times because our yards shared a boundary. They had dogs. They also had a few feral cats that they let eat, sleep, and breed in their barn. They moved and left the cats. Nice, right? For the past several months we've noticed this black cat prowling around under the bird feeder and hiding in different places outside our fenced yard. It runs whenever it sees us. It's cute, it has a bit of a bobbed tail. We don't want it hunting our yard, especially since we spend a lot of time trying to attract and feed the birds. Mmmm… what to do? 

We already have a cat. Bonsai doesn't go outside the fenced yard, and he's not a hunter. He's old and really doesn't have much energy to do anything. He gets special kibble for his chronic constipation. Everyday, for a treat, I give him a half of a small can of Fancy Feast Sliced Beef in gravy. Oh, he just loves the gravy. I add warm water to it so there's even more gravy, and it's more delicious. He laps it all up and leaves the beef, which I throw away everyday. But just the other day Roger said to me, "Why don't you give the feral cat that food?" And so, the idea was hatched to feed the feral cat in the hopes that he'll get enough to eat so he won't have to hunt the birds and lizards. Lions don't chase the zebras when they're full. Makes sense. Right?

So, for the past few mornings, I've been taking the leftovers out and putting them in a plastic dish on the compost pile. The black cat must keep an eye out for that, because s/he shows up right away to eat it. Roger set up a motion sensor camera in the compost bin, so we see exactly who's eating the catfood and when. It's always all gone before nightfall.

Our goal is to domesticate this feral creature and find it a home. We have also considered getting a large "have a heart" trap, trapping it and finding someone who wants to rehabilitate and socialize it as a pet. Are we totally crazy?  

OTOH, we did see this fox walking right in front of the house on Tuesday. It could take care of the feral kitty cat problem in one delicious meal. Life in the country is pretty wild.

What would you do?

A Quiet Hello

The more omnipresent social networking has become, the more we have less to say. Not sure why that is. We're just living our lives quietly these days. Can't seem to find the reason anymore to chat about the little things. The seasons change. We're still harvesting our garden. The summer heat has not abated. Supposed to be 90 freakin' degrees next Sunday. Our second corn crop is happy… me, not so much.

We planted six giant zinnias out back, and they have transformed the yard into a mecca for butterfies and bees. Next year we will plant more. It's the least we can do for the pleasure of their company.

Despite the heat the migrating birds have headed south and some of our little natives have come back from the high country. Love looking out to see a tufted titmouse and a house finch on the feeder. They haven't been here since early spring. Still waiting on the dark-eyed juncoes, but not too soon. They often are the harbingers of winter.

The half-moon rises. 

Migration

Even though the temps are still screaming summer at us (and we really wish they would stop), the birds are making their fall migration south to Mexico and beyond for their lovely mild winter. The orange-crowned warblers have been having a delightful time on the leaves of the yellow squash and eggplant in the garden. We hardly see them at all but only notice the leaves moving on hot windless days. Once in a while we do see a flash of yellow. So we celebrate that the warblers are moving though. Fall must be coming soon, right?

Have You Ever Seen...

...a hummingbird perched on the petal of a flower? I hadn't until this one decided it really liked the giant zinnia. It's been coming by for days and perching briefly like this. Pretty interesting behavior.
... or a green-tailed towhee? We hadn't until this one showed up a bit out of its range. They "rarely" show up in our neck of the woods. I noticed the white spot on its throat, and didn't catch the rufous head or green-tinged wings and tail until I looked at the pics. This bird is very hippity hoppity all the time, so it was hard to photograph, but we sure liked seeing it with the other native towhees out in the flower bed.

The View of the Back

I remembered that we wanted to show you the back of the house. The front is barn red with white trim. I mentioned that we painted the back in the opposite style. So, here it is. We love it. It's so freakin' hot in the back with all the crazy southern exposure. The blue paint and wood were severely sun damaged.
We're hoping that this light color will give the wood and paint a longer life.

Whenever we're out there now, we feel like we're on the patio of some fancy vacation house. It's all new and pretty. It makes us laugh.