The Way of All Things

I asked Bow what he thought had happened to the cat. "הוא מת"  --"He died." I asked him why he thought the cat had died. "כל אחד מת" -- "Everybody dies." End of story. For Bow, it's an easy answer, and completely unproblematic.

"But he was so young, Bow!" No answer.

I personally do not know what happened. It could be that Nile found a new home. But let's face it, a lot of the animals I enjoy seeing on my property probably do meet violent ends, long before they ever arrive at old age. It's the way of all things.

I saw a Prairie Kingsnake hidden among the leaves the other day. That was a day after I spotted the black rat snake above my door.

I could not see its head clearly, and I was afraid it might be a venomous snake, like a copperhead, which it somewhat resembles from a distance. So I got a fallen tree branch in order to investigate from a safe distance.

From the shape of the head and the eyes, I could see that it was non-poisonous, and so I left it alone. By the presence of the snakes on my land who eat rodents, mice and voles and even small birds, sometimes, you can tell that there is a lot of dying that happens on my land, as much dying as living. Because in order to eat, one must also kill.

That's not true of everyone, of course. If you are a plant, like my beautiful wondrous red maple, now in the process of turning colors, then you do not kill. You are a producer and rely on the sun. But who wants to be a tree? And even if we wanted to, we could not all be trees.

The butterflies on my land make a living as pollinators. The flowers offer them a fee because they serve as artificial inseminators, which is really a very odd profession to be in. But when there are fewer flowers blooming, you often see the butterflies landing on dead leaves or grass.

Do they die because their time has come? Could their life be prolonged if summer never ended?

A few intrepid flowers are still blooming, refusing to give up the fight.

I continue to spot deer in my front yard. The last time it happened was yesterday, before dinner. 

I saw the little one first. It looked so weak and vulnerable and alone. But I only had to take one step forward, and I saw it was not alone at all.

I wished them well as they took off into the pasture.  But let's face it, I don't know the deer as individuals. I don't know how many have to die at the hands of coyotes and hunters, in order to keep the herd that remains in top health.

Someone suggested that to keep the good snakes close to the house, I should put out a bowl of milk. But I don't feed the wildlife. They feed on each other. And that is what keeps an ecosystem healthy. 

Bow, in his own impenetrable way, may already have learned this lesson from his perch on the rim of the bench, where he studies nature, while remaining a disinterested observer. 

News Items of Note

http://the-cavalry-group.rallycongress.com/18797/stop-captive-primate-safety-act-hr-2920/

The Weather and the Creatures

Bow this morning in the outer pen

We have fine fall weather right now. It's cool, but not too cold. Bow goes outside in the morning and works up a display, and then when he is read, he goes back inside.

When Bow goes back into the inner pen, the dogs in the yard look wistful, as if they wished he would stay longer.

Leo wishes that Bow and I would stay outside and play

I am grateful to have made it safely home from my long trip, and so glad I am not absolutely required to get in my car and drive for hundreds of miles even in a downpour and zero visibility. Some people commute every day to work, and then they find themselves in the same situation that I had to face in Little Rock, Arkansas on my way to Galveston this past week. They have to keep going even though it is not quite safe. For me, it was a rare occasion.

There were thunderstorms even before I set out on the trip, some even quite disruptive. In the wee hours of October 7, a week  before my talk, there was a loud crash of thunder that sounded very close to the house. My iPhone gave a weird warning sign in the darkness, to let me know there was a flash flood watch till 10 am that morning. In the darkened inner pen, Bow became incensed and displayed loudly against the weather gods. That day, we had not internet service, as the modem had been damaged by the storm,

And the snakes came out of their hiding places, aware of the flood danger. 

This was a nice, healthy black rat snake that greeted me by my front door.

That same day, I also saw a different kind of snake.

This snake was much smaller than the rat snake, and it looked a little like a copperhead, but it wasn't.

It was actually a baby prairie Kingsnake. Here are some tips that I picked up from a later websearch about the differences in appearance between a copperhead and a prairie Kingsnake: 1) the Kingsnake  has round marking on its back, while the copperhead's markings are hourglass shaped 2) The Kingsnake has round pupils, while those of the copperhead are vertical and slitted, like cat eyes.

I did not bother the baby Kingsnake and it did not bother me.

By the time I got back from my trip, the weather was clear, but much colder. Checking my mailbox for the first time since my return, I found that a large bee was taking shelter there. I retrieved the newspaper in the mailbox, but just then a car came by on the road, and I quickly shut the mailbox and got out of the way. Then I returned to the mailbox, after the car had passed.

I coaxed the bee out with the newspaper, and eventually got it to buzz away. 

Yesterday I saw a lone butterfly in the crisp fall air and followed it around for a while. 

Where do all these insects go when the weather turns cold? Do they just die? Do they fly off to warmer climes? Do they take shelter in abandoned mailboxes and in man-made beehives and sleep away the winter?

The buttefly I was following yesterday

It is good to be home safe and snug when the weather turns bad.  We are very lucky that way, Bow and I.