The Storm and its Aftermath

On May the 27th, two days ago, I had just finished putting the last touches on my video of the essay "Who Are the Flowers For?", when a terrible wind arose and felled one of our trees.

It did not happen that fast, of course. I noticed that the sky was getting stormy, so I went to look out through the glass of the front door. But Bow was very upset about the weather. So I went back in the pen with him.

Bow vocalized at the storm while it lasted, his hair standing on end, and afterwards, we groomed. And all was right with the world, except that one of the trees had been pulled up and thrown across the internal gravel road that leads from my house to the county road.

The tree that fell surprised me. It was not the tree I would have expected to fall.

The dead oak tree still stands

 In our front yard, we have a dead oak tree. It has been dying for years, and this year when spring came, not a single green leaf sprouted. People have been  telling me that I had better have it felled, or else one day a storm will bring it crashing down on the roof of my house. But that is not the tree that fell. The dead oak tree is still standing tall, and a smaller, younger, vitally alive poplar (or cottonwood) had been brought low in the prime of its life. Such is nature.

The next morning there was a power outage that lasted all day. Having nothing to do indoors, Bow and I went outside, he to the outer pen, and I for a walk. The strange weather brought out other animals from their usual places of hiding. I saw a snapping turtle nesting right in the open, where she could easily be spotted.

The mother snapping turtle had laid her eggs and was in the process of burying them.

I left her alone and proceeded on my walk toward the barn and the path that leads to my pasture. But before I got there, from a distance, I saw three round objects in the grass. At first I did not know what they were. Then it dawned on me that they were armadillos.

They kept rooting around, oblivious of my presence, until one of them stood up on its hind legs and started sniffing the air for clues of my presence.

They did not seem to see very well,  but soon another of them was standing up and sniffing.

Then the third armadillo also decided to sweep the air for clues of a strange presence.

For a moment, it looked as if they were planning to march away single file.

But instead, they scattered in all different directions. So I went on my walk along the path and checked on the milkweed plant, which unlike the felled poplar, was still standing, though it was bowed now and its stem was white with stains from its own milky sap. .

Nature is remorseless in its arbitrary choices, felling the young and the vital and overlooking the dead and dying. On the way back from the pasture I spotted the snapping turtle mother again. Having buried her nest of eggs, her maternal  duties were done, and she was off to do something else.

The storm had caused so much destruction. For others in more populated spots, it had not only felled trees but thrown buildings around. The power outage we suffered was as nothing to the much longer outages that others in our region had to go through. But the plus side of it all was that nature revealed itself to me yesterday. I got to see sights I'd never see if the storm had not brought out our most exotic looking wildlife from its hiding.

To top it all off, an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail allowed me to get close enough to take see it in all its glory, even though its tail end was a bit damaged. Or more precisely, perhaps because it was damaged. It was able, however, to fly away afterwards.

Eventually my mowers came and cleared away the fallen tree. The power came back on, and we no longer had to sit indoors in the dark.

The road was littered with sawdust and with fresh green leaves from the tree.

If you'd care to count the rings, the age of the tree cut down in its prime will reveal itself. As for me and Bow, and the snapping turtles and the armadillos, life goes on.

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A Guest Turtle on a Stormy Day

Yesterday was a day of strange weather and odd portents, and briefly we entertained a guest turtle.

It started off cloudy and windy and cool, with Bow enjoying the great outdoors. Then at one point I noticed that out in the yard, among Brownie's extensive collection of treasured rocks, there was what looked like a turtle shell. So I told Bow I needed to investigate and went into the back yard.

The dogs did not seem too concerned about the turtle shell, which was clamped shut and seemed lifeless, although I could see that someone was still in there by looking through the cracks. I showed Bow the turtle shell, then went to put it out on the front porch, where it would be safe from the dogs.

The turtle still showed no sign of moving, so I left it there and came back later to check. When I returned, it was nowhere to be seen, neither in the spot where I had put it, nor in the immediate vicinity moving away from the house. I spotted a rabbit in the pasture, but no turtle. How fast can a turtle run? I wondered.  Thinking that the turtle was gone for good, I stopped to admire some wild flowers in my front yard.

It was only after I turned around to go back in the house that I spotted the turtle. It was very close to my front door.

The shell was open, and I could see its head looking out through the crack. It was shy but curious.

I went back in and took care of some things for Bow. By now Bow was in the inner pen. Then I brought out some vegetables for the turtle.I left the vegetables by the doorstep and went back inside.

 My friend Pam, who is an expert on both turtles and Jean Laffite,  identified it as a three-toed box turtle.  She suggested I give it fresh corn and berries. I didn't have that, so I opted for cauliflower and cherry tomatoes. But the turtle did not go toward the vegetables. When I returned a little later, he  had already  moved again to put more distance between himself and the food.

I never saw the turtle move. But I did see him in a different location every time I came back. Once he was on top of a sack of  potting mix.

The next time he was in my rock garden next to the porch.

By then, the weather was getting pretty stormy, and it was right after lunch. I cleared away the dishes and told Bow I was going out. Normally, I take my walk right after lunch. But this time I thought I would sit very still with my camera on the front porch and see if I could get some footage of the turtle walking away.

It started to rain, and the turtle was in an uncomfortable place, where all the run-off from the roof goes. Surely he will move now! I thought. But no. He stayed put and for five minutes I watched him do nothing while he was practically buried in water. Finally, I could stand it no more. I fished him out with a sigh and put him on the dry porch cement. Then I went back in to the pen.

When I checked again, the turtle had gone and no search could reveal his whereabouts. I hope he made it safely to the destination of his choice.

When I was little I wanted to adopt every animal I met. But now I am happy to host lots of independent animals on my land, most of whom I will never meet, who are all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.

Bow was unusually calm during this particular storm. He was happy to have me back in the pen, and he even groomed me calmly during a thunderstorm. We were lucky with the weather we got, because people in adjoining areas had it much worse.

After the Storm

Yesterday, after the storm, everything was calm again. The birds came out and started chirping, the flowers opened up, and even the rabbits seemed to find it a very good time to go silflay.

More on the rabbits later. Bow wanted to go out and see what devastation the terrible lightning and thunder might have wrought out of doors, and he asked to go outside. He was surprised to see how calm and beautiful it was outside.

There were more storms to come, and Brownie seemed to think that not all danger had passed, but for the time being, Bow was content and perhaps a little bored. He settled down on the rim of the bench, prepared for a light outdoor nap.

After dinner, when Bow had been put to sleep for the night, I went out to see what I could see. Flowers were beginning to open in my front yard.

Walking around the house, behind the giant satellite dish, I spotted a rabbit. I tried to film this first encounter with a rabbit, but, quite frankly, my cellphone camera was not really up for it. The rabbit that I could clearly see, standing stock still and hoping I would miss it, looked like a tiny dot on the cellphone screen. When I tried to magnify the image, everything got all blurry. However, you can see the little cottontail rear end when it finally realized that yes, I had spotted it after all.

Did you see the rabbit? Did you see it run into the woods? Did you see the damage on those daffodils?

Later, I went to the forsythia bush, thinking about the rabbit I had seen there a few days ago. I wasn't really expecting to see a rabbit this time.

I walked all around the forsythia bush and saw nothing. Then suddenly a rabbit bolted right in front of my feet and ran off into the woods. And, no, I didn't get a picture. By the time it came out, I was convinced there was no rabbit there.

So that makes two rabbits I saw yesterday, after the storm. And no, I was not hunting them with anything but a camera. I am glad I have wild rabbits on my land, and I would not shoot one, unless I actually meant to eat it.

But, despite the fact that I have read and enjoyed Watership Down, I do think it's okay for humans to eat rabbits. And despite Bambi,  I think it is fine to eat venison. Some people think that the moment we realize other animals have thoughts and feelings much like our own, that is the moment we have to give up eating them. But that's not what I think. I think that we don't have to feel superior in a false way, or utterly different from other animals, in order to participate in the circle of life, sometimes as predator and sometimes as prey. That's why I pointed out on Facebook, after someone posted a meme about an Easter bunny being a ten year commitment, that some people raise rabbits for meat. You should have seen the indignation of certain people at that comment!

Real enlightenment is not buying your food at the supermarket and feeling superior to those who raise their own food. I wouldn't expect that rabbit I saw to stop eating daffodils just because I regard those flowers as a decorative and a non-food plant. Why should the rabbit expect others to refrain from eating it, just because some people think of rabbits as pets?

Meanwhile, for the time being, the rabbits on my property are safe, because I'm still buying my meat at the supermarket. But I do not think that makes me morally superior to people who eat rabbits.

By late afternoon we had no internet service, so last night I contented myself by reading about the September 1818 hurricane that devastated Galveston Island. Then this morning, the front yard looked like this.

We may be in for a few mores storms, but for the time being, everything is calm and beautiful.

Standing Up to Thunder

This morning it was nice out, and Bow went outside several times. But right in the middle of lunch, before Bow even got to the bananas, it suddenly grew dark, and there was rain outside and thunder.

I asked Bow what else he wanted to eat, but Bow indicated by pointing at the door that he needed a break from lunch so he could take care of the problems we were having with the weather.

Bow protested the rain and the thunder by displaying, vocalizing and making a lot of noise by rattling a chained lock. He also threw himself against the glass a couple of times and struck it with his hand, but that hurt, so he decided not to do it again.

However, when the rain did not let up despite all Bow's hard work, he asked to eat his two remaining bananas.

Now the thunder has died down  and the rain has let up a little. It is probably a delayed reaction to Bow's earlier protest. Bow is content. He can relax now. Until the next thunder burst, anyway.

Weathering the Storm

I am cautiously optmistic about HB284. People have called and asked how they can help. There has been much activity on the legislative front. My informants in Jefferson City think the bill will not be passed and that the parallel legislation that is being introduced in the state senate is also getting nowhere. But it feels like a roller coaster, coming up for the vote and getting passed out of committee one day, then getting shelved the next, and who knows what tomorrow will bring. In this way, politics is a lot like the weather.

Bow was enjoying the warm weather that came upon us recently, spending most of the day outside with Lawrence on Wednesday, but then by evening everything changed. Storm clouds flew over our property, the winds picked up, and even the tiniest flowers tucked safely underfoot began to tremble.

After dinner, the storm came in.

Besides the big show that a storm always brings us, there was a considerable drop in temperature. I had to start heating the pens again. All yesterday it was quite cold out. Today, it's may be a little warmer, but still too cold to play outside before noon.

Earlier this morning Bow asked to go out, but no sooner out, than he wanted to go right back in. But the cool weather made him playful. When we went back inside he was jumping and initiating a short chase sequence, making happy whistling-like sounds with his mouth. Then he kissed me and examined my hand and led me to the glass where he spelled: "Give me a rug." When I gave him the rug, though, he had trouble deciding what to do with it.

 And now he is napping. When the weather changes again, he will be well rested and will have plenty of energy to accept new challenges.