Wild Times in the Woods, Two-Leggers
Lady Sparrowhawk once again performs miracles (she previously provided artwork for The Boy in the Giant – Artwork by LadySparrowhawk). I shared a poem with her and invited her to come up with something fitting. Her artwork and the poem follow. Lady Sparrowhawk’s comments re the artwork follow the poem.
The Coyotes Are Celebrating
The coyotes are celebrating tonight
Under the full moon’s light
That orb as high as a noon day sun
Goring through trees through leaves
Churning night dark earth for all that it’s worth
Their paws trampling grasses as they gather from their dens
Their high stepping prances as they gather in the glens
Standing up on hinds, walking o’ so tall
Walking like Two-legs, walking wall to wall
Their noses twitching gently sniffing Two-legs’ air
Their noses twitching gently as if they really care
Talking woodland politics
Talking ‘coons ‘possoms bear
They’re talking woodland politics
Talking who goes here and there
Their laughter rising hairs on Two-legs’ necks
Their laughter rising rising ’till the moon’s kept in check
Two-legs listen fearful under blankets all night long
To the keening and the weening of Coyote’s night long song.
Lady Sparrowhawk wrote, “Accountant coyote thinks you miscounted the chickens. There’s no way 5 are missing and you definitely should not look in her den for the feathers.
This is what happens when I let writers put coyotes in my brain. Thanks”
And thanks to you, Lady Sparrowhawk.
Vasch sends Greetings. Maybe. It’s tough to tell with gray fox.
I’ve written about our resident wildlife. Recently we were visited by Vasch, a mature male gray fox.
We’ve had several gray fox visit over the past few weeks, Vasch is the first to share his name with us. I’ll admit to being a little confused at first; translating from Hrycuna, the major gray fox dialect, to Human and then to English proved more of a challenge than I thought (I haven’t spoken Hrycuna regularly in several years, my bad, that).
In any case, it took me a few turns to make out his name when he shared it: “Vaschti? Vayetzch? Fhasaietch?”
Fortunately, Vasch was patient with me. Probably figured talking with me was the price of being in our backyard.
We suspect there may be females and if so, kits. We’ll let you know.
Somebody’s following those fine looking ladies
I wrote about Agnes, our resident wild turkey, a few posts back and that Agnes brought along her friend, Francesca.
Well, things were obviously pretty good at Chez Carrabis because the other day we woke up to see Bill out there with the girls.
It’s Bill, not William. Just Bill
I didn’t know we had any mature Toms although I shouldn’t have been surprised; any Tom would be drawn to the vicinity of two such attractive ladies.
I went out to greet him. When I asked his name, I thought he said “Roger” (probably some errant chipmunk not getting enough seed).
“I bet your pardon?” I said.
“My name’s Bill.”
Being polite, I said, “Hello, William.”
He quickly corrected me, “It’s Bill, just Bill,” and he held out a wing. He had a good, firm wingshake. Obviously a bird of business, a serious bird, one to be dealt with squarely, probably good with a bread&bourbon stuffing.
Bill harrumphed at that and joined the ladies.
That’s Agnes in front at her seed pile. Francesca’s in back. Bill comes in about 12s in