In a salute to Mr. Rogers–“Look who’s in our neighborhood.”

Now that you have that little ear worm dancing about so prettily in the vast infiniteness of your craniums, courtesy of me sharing it with you, let me show you the “beings” in our neighborhood.  (In our neighborhood…in our neighay-bor-hood…..who are the people in your neighborhood…need I go on?)

They’ve been here the last couple of weeks and at various times we’ve been fortunate enough to lay eyes on them.  And even more fortunately, at times, grab a picture.

The coyote has been a bit more elusive, just leaving little packages to tease the dogs.  But the coyote is there alright, trust me.

First up:  the Prairie Falcon


**As always, please excuse the amateurish photography.  The damn camera is on its last click, and the iPhone just doesn’t cut the mustard.  Course, as always, could be operator error.**

This avian being is, I am fairly certain, related in some form or fashion to the youngster who hit the window a few weeks ago, in a Kamikaze manner reminiscent of a Japanese suicide pilot.  He died instantly, I am sorry to say.  I wrote about a second one who was ridiculously attempting to nab one of the Stellar Jays out front who were roughly the same size.  I theorized that one must have been a male.  The one above is about twice the size of the falcon hitting above his weight class (even though the photo may not do it justice).  I am theorizing she is a she.  As she was NOT attempting to battle the jays, though she did appear to be twice their size.

Next up:  Brother Fox

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This was taken through the bedroom window (thus the weird lighting).  I didn’t want to step onto the front porch and scare him off.  Once again, I so wish I could stop doing this, I am attributing gender.  I simply do not know.  We’ll go with Brother Fox here, just because.  Literary license and such.

Anyway, he’s been tooling around here for a couple of weeks.  Leaving his scat in strategic spots around the property, I’m thinking in a fashion to drive the canines berserk.  Which it does.  And which makes the husband and I laugh at the fox’s ingenuity.  As in a single piece of scat on the doorstep in front of the shop.  And another at the beginning of the path to the house.  Makes us smile.

Next in the neighborhood (think Mr. Rogers…just in case the ear worm had left your cabeza, I’m helping to reintroduce it):  Brother Moose

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(These got out of order, but I’m too lazy and technically challenged to fix it, sorry.)

(And as I’m certain this is a male specimen of the species, I feel confident in calling him Brother Moose.)

He showed up last week interested in the flowers on the porch, but as I was more concerned with keeping the loveable Springer Spaniel Angus from going through the plate glass window, I didn’t get photographic evidence. Luckily he came back.  During school no less.  The little one happened to be daydreaming (though she would vehemently deny it) and jumped up and whispered “mom!  you’ve GOT to see this.”  I came running, silently, so as not to awaken the sleeping giant of a guard dog (see Angus reference above) and gaped, yes I gaped, at himself in all of his glory in the front yard, checking out the bird feeders.  I ran, again silently, for the camera.  But then decided I needed to cage the beast should he wake and see the challenge out front.  So instead of a money shot, I pulled and prodded the slumbering Spaniel to his kennel.  By the time I got back, the neighbor had moved on to the side of the yard and was slowly making his way along the house.  So the shots are all of him retreating I guess you could say.  Though I was wondering if his interest in the satellite dish was because he was trying to figure out if Hughes Net allows one to watch The Walking Dead as the season starts next week!!!!!!!!!!!  A moose after my own heart.

That will warrant a whole separate post, so look for it to come.

And now, on to a beautiful fall Saturday morning.  Chilly here.  More leaves on the ground than on the trees.  The tang of fallen leaves is intoxicating to me.  It rivals the smell of rain on sagebrush.  I used to have to go for fall drives up into the trees so I could soak up as much of the smell of forest and woods as I could.  Now?  Now I have to be one of the luckiest, most fortunate people alive as all I have to do is step out onto the front porch and inhale.  It is truly glorious.  I am truly blessed.

And blessings be to you as well.





About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). #FindingMyVoice #ScienceMatters
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1 Response to In a salute to Mr. Rogers–“Look who’s in our neighborhood.”

  1. barbara coyle says:

    love, love the post…..and the photos, of course.

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