Author: Bob

Last night a pack of noisy coyotes were down in the gully by the stream that borders our property. Probably a family passing through. Howling at the moon. I can relate

Well, it’s been an active couple of days around our humble little pond. Yesterday a heron graced it and purloined some of our adolescent bass children. Feathered felon. It flew away with its booty in early afternoon, expelling a flying token of its gratitude as it vaulted into the wild blue yonder.

Two does dropped by and grazed near the ledge. They were later joined by a handsome young spike buck, sending the does into absolute fits of giddiness. Ever seen a giddy doe? Embarrassing.

This morning we were greeted briefly by two more does and a fawn. They were in a great hurry and dashed from the woods near the ledge through the yard. Then up the driveway and into the woods beyond.

In late afternoon a mom bear and her cub loped through the woods near the porch. Our first cub of the year. Twelve sightings in all. They poked around among the trees near an inlet on the pond. About 100 yards from the porch they foraged for roots and hemlock cones. Yum.

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.

This little guy emerged from the woods this evening and strolled to the edge of the pond for a drink. Didn’t even ask. They don’t raise young bears the way they used to. We thought he might jump in to cool off. It’s been blazing hot all day. Not to be. He stayed just long enough for my lovely bride to adorn him with the name “Bruce”. Long live Bruce!

Speaking of her nibs, she has recently adopted a pronounced war like demeanor. Last night she encountered a small black snake that had lost its GPS and wandered into the porch. Her weapon of choice was a vacuum cleaner. After having been chased to all four corners and under several pieces of furniture by this snarling. sucking, roaring contraption, the snake opted for an open door. Heaven knows what would have befallen it, had it been sucked into the maelstrom and deposited with days’ worth of carpet crap. I suppose cold blood can run at pretty high pressures too.

Worse than snakes, by far, are spiders. Afflicted by a severe case of arachnophobia she places root canals way above spiders on her list of favorite people. In fact, she dispatched a very hefty one with 35 lb of my physical therapy weights yesterday. And a wasp with our TV remote. Guess I won’t be watching much TV for a while.

Now that I think of it, that little bear was pretty cool.

Busy times around the pond these days. Two does drop by every evening to munch on pond side veggies.

The phoebes do an aerial dance around them as they enjoy their dinner. Through a little symbiotic magic, the phoebes enjoy theirs, too. Being major bug eaters, they take their feast where they can find it. Including among the midges, fleas, deer flies and other entomological critters that hang out around the deer. Basic, but hey, it’s provender. A phoebe will brutally snatch a poor midge in mid-air as it goes innocently about its daily routine. Sorry kids. Daddy won’t be home tonight. Ponder (which I often do) the brief, tragic life of a midge. Must be grim.

More on the avian front. No sooner had we become friends with our house wren neighbors, than they moved out of town. Word is that they often do that after raising a brood. I guess that’s one way to avoid a house cleaning bill. Or rent. They also sometimes move to raise another brood. Whatever floats your eggs.

Smokey Bear–or Barney, as my lovely bride prefers–strolled through the yard today. Too late and too far away for photos. That’s the ninth bear sighting this year, though some of them are surely of the same bear. Still a long way to go to match last year’s count of 18. Maybe I can teach them how to do selfies. Well, maybe not.

Don’t know how the local critters feel about having no power of attorney in their choice of names. But, then, neither did I. Now that I think about it, it they could have been a little more creative. But I wasn‘t in a position (mostly supine) to complain.

This guy sauntered out of the woods and up to within 15 feet of the porch before taking a swim across the pond. Unfortunately, the sun was at an angle that yielded a better reflection of the videographer than video of the bear. Still shots had to do. I estimate it at 350–400 lb. Again, we were having lunch. Tip: Chicken sandwiches make great bear bait. So does a cool pond on a hot day.

It’s busy around the pond these days. There are the random visits by deer. They generally arrive in ones and twos to graze at the edge of the pond. They seem to prefer the new vegetation that grows there. Gourmands that they are. Two nights ago four of them arrived separately and spread out, each to its own territory. Apparently they preferred to dine alone with their thoughts. Two fawns inexplicably dashed by within feet of the porch three days ago. Hopefully, they hadn’t lost their mother. They were still young enough to be vulnerable.

Small critters abound. This year’s issue of squirrels has taken over from their elders. In a few months, summer’s bounty will be gone and they’ll be scurrying around burying nuts for their first winter–the locations of which they’ll soon forget. The thing that ignites their primitive fire is to find that another critter has beat them to their stash. Ever see a pissed off squirrel? Not a pretty sight.

Shari’s favorite bunny was seen enjoying a luncheon of clover on the front yard with its parents yesterday. Domestic bliss.

Our noisy downstairs neighbor continues to live beneath the porch. Who knew that woodchucks could be so rude? My lovely bride occasionally finds it necessary to do the merengue on the floor to subdue the beast.

The pond is active. The grass carp exalt in the remains that get kicked into the pond during mowings. The bass continue their futile pursuit of low flying dragon flies. To the constant amusement of the dragon flies, I’m sure.

The frogs, especially bullfrogs, continue their round-the-clock chorale. The quick thrust of a tongue and scratch one insect.

Event of the day. Smokey strolled down the driveway and on between the pond and ledge while we were having lunch on the porch. Before we could lay down our sandwiches and grab a camera, he had sauntered, unprovoked, into the woods.

Just as well.

Mon, July 1

Bears, as many know, will scratch their backs on a tree to relieve themselves of mites, ticks, other bear eating bugs and just because it feels so damn good. When you wander lost through the woods you will often see a tree with the bark missing on one side. That’s likely to be because a bear has been scratching its back on that tree. Or because it’s dead. Many bears have a favorite tree. Mine is in our back yard (for the sake of privacy). Well, some presumptuous bear has selected the power pole that carries our TV line as its favorite tree. Friday night, for the third time, it scratched itself, ripped the line from the pole and interrupted our land line, tv, and Internet. As I type this note, We are waiting for the Spectrum TV repairman to arrive. This time to place the line somewhere other than on Smokey’s favorite tree.

Well, it’s been a pleasantly warm, sunny, sleepy day around the pond. Several woods turtles hauled out to sun themselves on the lawn. A large snapping turtle floated lazily near the island, apparently caught up in the general mood of the day. Several frogs harmonized their way through the afternoon and on into sunset. They interrupted their song only for an occasional (usually futile) thrust of the tongue at a passing insect. The grass carp pursued their stealthy chlorophyllic prey. And the bass lay on the bottom. Fantasizing about the imminent arrival of the dragon fly season, I suppose. What else is a bass going to do now that spawning season is over? A lone Tom turkey picked its way across the lawn and into the woods. What a dull life that must be. Still, we saw an oversexed Tom pursue and apparently arrange a date with a promiscuous hen a couple of weeks ago. Pheromones abounded. Once again we were forced to avert our eyes.

Our noisy marmotian neighbor continues to make a ruckus beneath the porch. My intrepid bride still finds it occasionally necessary to do a noisy dance on the porch floor to quiet it down. Groundhogs would probably not be so named were they more genteel. A tiny rabbit child has done a daily nosh on the front yard clover and, in the process, captured my sentimental bride’s heart,

In a word or two–or three, an ideal summer day. To top it off, Daryl, (so named by my lovely bride) our small resident buck, dropped by to graze quietly by the ledge. He, his cervidean brothers and sisters are especially pretty at this time of year. All decked out as they are in their bright rust red spring finery.

Today is in sharp contrast to yesterday, during which we were favored by Smokey. He strolled casually along the edge of the pond near the ledge. I’m assuming that Smokey is a “he” since most of the moms are accompanied by cubs during this time of year. Smokey meandered onto the property while my horticulturally gifted bride was showing a local tree surgeon where she wants some work done. Fortunately, they didn’t cross paths with Smokey, though it would no doubt have resulted in a mutual retreat. Not so with other local critters. As Smokey disappeared gradually into the woods, I’d swear that I heard the Beast of Hideaway Pond hurling invective at him from a lofty perch in a tall hemlock.

Oblivious to all of this, the evening sun settled quietly behind the lovely Catskill Mountains. Tomorrow is another day. Barring a massively disastrous celestial event. Or a serious schism in the space/time continuum. Or the sun flairs out leaving Earth a smoldering cinder. Stay tuned.

Well, to make things even more interesting (and this note even longer) a large deer just strode in and lay down by the ledge. After remaining motionless for a half hour, it put its head down and appeared to go to sleep. Still there after 45 minutes. As the note says “Stay tuned”.

Well, the deer finally stood up, stretched, pooped and sauntered off. God’s in his Heaven and all’s right with the world.