94 Degrees on Hideaway Pond

Quiet around the pond during the last week or so. A trio of young does continues to drop in for their sunset snack. A large spike buck has been arriving at about the same time. They seem to pay little attention to one another. Maybe somebody has a headache? More likely it’s a little early in the season per l’amore‘. I guess that’s their business. A pretty little doe dropped in the other day for a drink and a stroll in the cool pond water. She favored us with some excellent photo poses. Her rust red summer finery showed beautifully against the bright greens of summer foliage. Sylvan royalty.

A great blue heron–Harry, so named by local authority-has been making a daily run on our bass children. Not to worry. We have plenty of them. Besides, they’re probably tiring of the constant humiliation of making futile leaps at passing dragon flies.

Speaking of “Harry”, he put on quite a show last evening. Having apparently had his fill of our local bounty, he flew directly to a hemlock immediately adjacent to the porch. There, he proceeded to preen and take a pose so regal as to be deserving of the name “Harold” instead of the more mundane “Harry”. “Mrs. Harold”? Didn’t ask.

Well, just as I was about to call this tale of our recent Hideaway adventures to a grand finale, in walks Bruce. One of the bears that has almost become a member of the family. He scrounged around under the trees near the edge of the pond. Looking for hemlock cones and acorns, I presume. He then ambled into the woods and lay down in the shade on a pile of damp leaves. As would I, were I wearing a fur coat in this weather.

I don’t intend to infer that the friendly names we assign to our bruins imply teddy bear coziness. I would make a handy chew toy for any one of them. Barry, our 400 plus pounder could toss me into the air and swallow me like a piece of protoplasmic popcorn.

On that pleasant, if unappetizing, note, I will, indeed close this note. Not with a bang but a very, very hot whimper.