Birds are back

We got a slight break from winter weather here in the past few days -- leading the birds to bloom into the landscape, searching out nesting sites, pecking at the seeds and generally being much more visible.  A hoot owl's been hooting almost continuously since last night.  And I saw Indigo
Bunting in the field two days ago -- about as bright and glowing a color as one can see in the mountains.

Baby bobcat

Bobcats literally own their territory, unafraid and unfazed by man.  This baby bobcat was loping across Route 28 at dusk yesterday evening, as one vehicle was heading south, another to the north.  It gamboled across the road just in time to avoid a crunch -- and was gone up the hillside.

Evanescent purple

The pre-dawn sky in the east was spectacular this morning -- large, wide bands of very dark purples and reds, covering the horizon from north to south.  Lasted about 30 seconds and was gone.  The memory lives on, though.

Magnificent

We have lived in this wild place for almost 12 years, but until this morning, had never seen a buck.  Plenty of does and fawns, but no bucks.  Now, we have.  He was magnificent, with a huge, velvety rack.  Very skittish. Drawing away at the merest movement from the house.  Much less "domesticated" than the does, that like to creep up toward our home and chew on greenery, especially hostas and day lilies.  It makes my heart glad that I have been lucky enough to see such a creature close up.

Back home

The pace of life back home does not slow.  I've been involved in several projects that inhale time.  But there are reminders of the different pace that animates the wildlife around us.  The latest such reminder came in the form of a pileated woodpecker, the giant pecker of the forestlands around us, swooping as they ususally do in front of the new clunker truck that is my transportation around here. Is there a more vivid red than the red of pileated woodpecker?  Maybe the scarlet tanager's -- but few others.  Also glimpsed a broadwing flying fast across the landscape, heading south for an annual migration.

Then, recently coming home one night on Warwoman Road, there was that big, old and slow black bear -- moving much more slowly than normal. This fat bear could barely scramble up the roadbank -- must have been weighted down by a recent meal.   Guess even bears need to slow down sometimes, like people.

Of circadian rhythms

Sunset over the Pacific @ Todos Santos, Baja California Sur, Republic of Mexico

Every once in a blue moon, it is good to get away from the everyday rush of America and kick back, which is what we did recently for an an entire two weeks!

No phones (cellfone coverage is spotty down south,) very little internet, no newspapers. The hurricane that came through a few weeks before had left no evident damage. Time to kick back and assume a simpler schedule. Hike the beach at dawn, followed by breakfast, nap, lunch, nap, watch the sun go down. I ended up reading every trashy pulp novel previous visitors had left for us to read. The night sky in Baja is stupendous, with so little light pollution that the Milky Way paints the firmament, something that is becoming increasingly rare at home. The Pacific is not very pacific, with wild rollers every day, while the Sea of Cortez is like a warm bath by comparison.

It was good to get away, just as now, it is good to be back.

Ode to the clunker

That old Chevy truck that served so well in these mountains got "clunkered" this past Friday, heading to the scrap metal boneyards of U.S. consumerism. It had accumulated 230,765 miles of tortuous wear-and-tear on curvy mountain roads, a good bit of backcountry 4-wheeling where no truck should be taken, and a wonderful, well-Rabunized look and feel.

I will miss it. Welborn, the salesman who sold it to me in 1998, told me what I needed in the mountains was a short-bed truck with 4WD and the biggest motor I could afford. He was right. That was a 5.7 liter Vortec V-8 with lots of horses and a true thirst for regular unleaded gas (12 MPG in the city!) It was fast and pretty much indestructible, if unsustainable. I ripped the back bumper half-way off one day trying to vault a big stump; but it got dinged back in two days later when a yahoo from South Carolina -- in an even bigger, "dually" truck -- smashed into my backside on Route 28. The only major repair turned out to be need for a new clutch, which in 11 years, ain't bad.

It also hardly ever failed to attract the birds, like owls and hawks, that regularly make their appearance in these parts.

Now, I wonder if the "new clunker," a very down-sized, 4-cylinder truck with the shortest bed and the smallest motor I could find (but up to 27 MPG on the highways) is going to be up to the task. At first glance, I think it will do. Coming up the driveway in that new vehicle, we spied a furry image loping up the driveway. A truly fat and fast black bear cub! Then, Saturday, miraculus mirabili, my hawk swooped over the new truck to check us out. I take that as a good omen.