I didn’t have time to grab a ruler or measuring tape but this lizard was LONG. I actually first thought it was a snake, but my gaze followed the tail all the way to its body. I see these guys every so often, but they’re not as common around here as the smaller ones.
The California Alligator Lizard was named after its large head and big jaws. The alligator lizard really looks like a mix-up between a lizard and a snake with a body twelve inches long or more and most of its size made up of its tail. They’re yellowish-tan with black stripes and a gray belly.
Alligator lizards are carnivores that eat insects, ground beetles, crickets, hornworms, and grasshoppers. They are opportunistic feeders that take advantage of any resource they can find, including cannibalizing their own kind if that’s the most convenient food source. Whatever they catch and can swallow whole is considered fair game, from tiny flies to baby mice.
I read that they bite when cornered, so I’m glad I didn’t get too close. I was once bitten by a smaller lizard that I tried to rescue and that hurt a LOT. I can’t possibly imagine how I’d get this big one off if he latched on to my hand. You can read about that other timeHERE.
Since I was fortunate enough to NOT die last week and still slightly anxious from that near-death event, I stayed home this morning.
As I was taking out the trash, I saw a single bee on the deck. I crouched down to get a better look at the little guy and while he was still moving, he seemed lethargic and tired, but not dead, thank goodness.
I ran inside to get a shallow plate which I filled with sugar water, placed a rock in the center, and brought out a toothpick. I set the plate near the little bee and watched as he took a couple of sips from the drops hovering at the end of the toothpick.
I scooped him up with a seashell and placed him on the rock in the plate. After the thirsty little guy drank a bit more of the sweetness, he gathered enough energy to buzz away.
There are no pics of that miracle because I was too intensely focused on bee rescue, but I felt really good about the outcome especially since I’m allergic to bees and have always been afraid of them.
Bees are incredibly hard workers and if you do find a bee on the ground for an extended period of time, then in most cases there is nothing wrong with the bee. It simply needs a little rest. It’s pretty easy to revive tired and exhausted bees. A simple solution of white sugar and water can work wonders to give them the energy they need to fly away. 🐝
It was a warm night and the patio doors were open…
I’m used to hearing coyotes and the occasional hoot of a pair of Great Horned Owls that live in the ‘hood, but last night I heard what could only be described as a MONKEY — but that’s crazy, right?
I turned off the TV, grabbed my phone, and pointed it outside.
You can hear it too, the monkey sounds in tandem with very faint owl hoots. The hoots didn’t get picked up as I was recording though the screen door, so you might not catch it. Definitely turn up the volume.
I did some research: What is a bird that sounds like a monkey — and thanks to the brilliance of Google, a zillion results popped up.
It turns out that I might have been lucky enough to hear a Barred Owl, which is more rare here. Or it’s another vocalization from the Great Horned Owl, one I’ve never before heard.
Barred Owls are huge, between 16 to 25 inches long, with a broad wingspan of up to 60 inches. Since I’m five feet tall, I cannot even fathom that.
Whoever it was, I’m overjoyed! It’s one more animal friend helping to rid my garden of disease-ridden rodents. Bon apetit!
Apologies again for the crappy video, as this was my screen door and I couldn’t turn off the flash because I didn’t want to mess around and lose the capture.
So what is it? Monkey? Owl? Monkey Owl? Or something else?
I hardly ever see my backyard friends during the day so this was a huge surprise, even more so because I was actually outside at the time.
I have no idea how I missed observing this beauty in real time, but it was such a treat to check the camera and discover my silent visitor up on the hill.
Isn’t his coloring beyond beautiful? I can’t wait to see him again…
Heaving mountain in the sea, Whale, I heard you Grieving. Great whale crying for your life, Crying for your kind…
Song of the Whale — Kit Wright
The last surviving orca of the infamous Penn Cove captures of 1970 is dead.
Lolita is dead. In my opinion, she was murdered; a long, slow, painful death.
When will humans stop abusing other living creatures for MONEY?
The blood is on your hands, Miami Seaquarium.
Earlier this year, the Seaquarium announced plans to return Lolita back to the the waters of the Pacific where she could spend her final days. The decision came after years of pressure from animal rights groups to allow the aging orca to spend her final days swimming freely in her natural habitat.
But months later, Lolita remained at the aquarium. The Dolphin Company, which owns the Seaquarium, saidthat the orca would be relocated sometime between October 2024 and April 2025. (NPR)
I can’t even verbalize how angry I am at the humans who did this to Lolita. She was so close to finally being reunited with her family and experiencing freedom.
What makes me even more outraged are the ignorant comments on the aquarium’s website, thanking them for “loving” this orca, and how beautiful it was to see her. IT WAS NOT BEAUTIFUL. It was a total and complete travesty. So very wrong.
Lolita (also known as Tokitae), the most famous orca in captivity, and the subject of a decades-long, global movement to retire her to a seaside sanctuary, has died at Miami Seaquarium. While reports of her deteriorating health have peppered the media over the last several months, this is no easy news to accept.
The Seaquarium stated that during the past two days, Lolita “…started exhibiting serious signs of discomfort.” The aquarium went on to say that while her medical team began treating her condition, “…she passed away Friday afternoon from what is believed to be a renal condition.”
“There is something inherently obscene about a magnificent creature such as Lolita dying in a concrete STADIUM. This is going to continue until people stop buying tickets. There is no other way.” ~ Ric O’Barry, Founder/Director of Dolphin Project
On August 8, 1970 at approximately four years old, Lolita was captured from the waters of Penn Cove, in the state of Washington. It was a violent capture, where five whales drowned, including four babies. This young member of the L pod of the Southern Resident killer whales was sold to Miami Seaquarium, a marine park located on Biscayne Bay, in Miami, Florida for $20,000 and in the following month, was shipped across the country to her new home.
Her “home” would be a concrete tank, known as the “Whale Bowl”. Another orca at the facility, Hugo, would eventually be moved into the tank alongside Lolita, where they performed their daily routines. For ten years, the two orcas shared the Seaquarium’s spotlight. Despite mating, no offspring was produced. (Curated from dolphinproject.com)
While Lolita may never experience the freedom she deserved, her legacy will continue to inspire us to push for a world where animals are treated with compassion and respect. Her story will forever remind us of the urgent need to protect our oceans and the magnificent creatures that call them home.https://www.savelolita.org/
There isn’t one single word to describe the unspeakable wrongs that were done to Lolita for fifty years, but I can think of a few…repugnant, vile, abusive.
Lolita should be swimming with her family in Puget Sound. On behalf of the human race, I’m so very sorry.
This little Jewish girl from Detroit dancing around in a pink tutu and satin toe shoes harbored a secret desire to live among the wolves and become accepted as a pack member.
Crazy, right?
Crazy because the only wolves I encountered in Detroit were the hormone-addled little boys at the Jewish Community Center.
“The gaze of the wolf reached into our soul.” Barry Lopez
It wasn’t until we moved to California and I was in college that I did anything about it.
Back in the 1970s, I joined the fight to save the wolf from extinction by advocating for protection under the Endangered Species Act (ESA),
In college, I studied predators and made plans to accompany research scientists and live with wolves in Minnesota and Michigan but never fulfilled that dream because I couldn’t (obviously) bring my dog, and I didn’t want to leave her.
Another dream unfulfilled. Oh, well.
Wolf print, Yellowstone
I was lucky to finally get to Yellowstone National Park and see IRL several of the wolves who make up the Lamar Valley pack, but never heard the song of the wolf, probably because we camped right on Slough Creek and the water, while beautiful, drowned out most animal sounds.
I’m still involved in the never-ending fight to save, defend, and protect this magnificent animal; read about my experiences in Sacramento when I testified at the Fish and Wildlife Service‘s wolf delisting hearing: Saving Wolves.
From my testimony: “At 6:00 a.m., a few miles outside our camp at Slough Creek, we followed others to a bison carcass, and our efforts paid off with a multiple sighting of many wolves, including 755. There was an overwhelming sense of awe among the dozens of us who silently watched him cross the road and then a collective sigh of relief when he disappeared safely over the ridge.
I recently took a drive to the Mojave Desert town of Lucerne to spend a few hours at Wolf Mountain Sanctuary, a 501c3 nonprofit organization founded in 1976 by Tonya Littlewolf.
Many wolves call this sanctuary home, and while I finally heard the haunting song of the wolf, the whole experience could only be described as sad.
Why sad?
Sad because these magnificent creatures NEED to be rescued.
Sad that humans think they have the right to try and make pets out of these wild animals. (Not gonna work.)
Sad that the wolves can’t roam free, sad they’re hunted, tortured, hated, vilified.
Wolves are among the most intelligent species.
HOW DARE WE DESTROY THEM.
Wolf Mountain Sanctuary
So yes. Sad. Very sad.
From Wolf Mountain Sanctuary website…all volunteer educational organization dedicated to the preservation, protection, and proper management of wolves in the wild and in captivity. We are a forever home for all of the wolves we rescue. We rescue wolves from the movie industry, private owners, and from breeders. The impression a 180 pound wolf leaves on you is everlasting. To look into their knowing, wise, amber colored eyes is a moving, spiritual experience. When you look into the eyes of a wolf, you see your soul…
“We have doomed the Wolf not for what it is, but for what we have deliberately and mistakenly perceived it to be..the mythologized epitome of a savage, ruthless killer..which is, in reality no more than a reflexed images of ourself.” Farley Mowat
Wolf Mountain Sanctuary
Denali (Deh-Nah-Lee) (“Great One” or “Highest Mountain”) was one of two pups born in the wilds of Alaska. He was rescued from the wolf-killing that was taking place in that state, both by private citizens and government agencies.
He’s a beautiful wolf with a golden sand coat. Denali’s personality is very sweet, curious, and friendly.
The wolves at Wolf Mountain Sanctuary seem to be well cared for and healthy.
When I met this handsome guy, Holan, he immediately jumped up, put his front paws on my shoulders, and licked my face. See my joy? This is the smile of someone who loves wolves.
Wolf Mountain Sanctuary
“The wolf is neither man’s competitor nor his enemy. He is a fellow creature with whom the earth must be shared.” L. David Mech
Look at him. The eyes. Amazing.
Wolf Mountain Sanctuary
Wolf Mountain Sanctuary
“Throughout the centuries we have projected on to the wolf the qualities we most despise and fear in ourselves.” Barry Lopez
Wolf Mountain Sanctuary
“Inescapably, the realization was being borne in upon my preconditioned mind that the centuries-old and universally accepted human concept of wolf character was a palpable lie. On three separate occasions in less than a week I had been completely at the mercy of these “savage killers”; but far from attempting to tear me limb from limb, they had displayed a restraint verging on contempt, even when I invaded their home and appeared to be posing a direct threat to the young pups.” Farley Mowat, Never Cry Wolf
WHY SAVE THE WOLF? Look at them: they are so noble, so beautiful. The wolf, as well as other endangered species, are ecological indicators. It is by studying these species and learning how to preserve them that we learn the main factors affecting our environment.
Perhaps in so doing, we will learn undiscovered ways to benefit mankind!
Unfortunately, there are those who deny the wolf’s place in the ecosystem. Wolves are gunned down from airplanes and snowmobiles (which some consider “sport”). Sometimes the fur is taken; however, more often than not, the animal is simply left to decay.
The wolf is poisoned “en masse,” trapped by leg-hold traps, used as adornments for the idle rich.
Today, the wolf’s range is limited to Alaska, Canada, the upper Midwest, and in Yellowstone National Park. Some of the YNP wolves have traveled into adjoining states, which allow hunters to kill wolves on sight and for little to no reason. In the 1930’s, there were approximately 50,000 wolves roaming the North American continent. By the 1940’s, that number had been decreased to 1,000. Today, mostly because of conservation efforts, there are approximately 3,000 wild wolves on the entire continent. They have made a small comeback, but because of the recent delisted from the Endangered Species Act, wolves are once again under attack.
Wolf lovers need to band together and do all we can to help them. TIME IS RUNNING OUT!
Only you can save the wolf from extinction. Proper management procedures must be put into action.
I think this should be taught in schools because I can’t believe I never heard about Robert Emmett Fletcher Jr. Have you?
Robert Emmett Fletcher Jr. was an American agricultural inspector who quit his job to manage fruit farms of Japanese families sent to internment camps during WW2.
Fletcher was born in San Francisco and grew up on a farm in Contra Costa County east of San Francisco. He attended the what would become the University of California at Davis, graduating with an agriculture degree in 1933. He managed a peach orchard and subsequently worked as a state and county agricultural inspector, in which capacity he got to know Japanese American farmers throughout the state.
Upon learning about the looming relocation of Japanese farmers in his area, Fletcher grew concerned. This led to the Tsukamoto family, who owned a grape ranch in Florin near Sacramento, proposing that he take care of their farm while they were away.
They offered him their home and all net profits from the crops (though Fletcher would only take half) after covering farming costs, mortgages, and taxes.
Two other families, the Okamotos and Nittas, also proposed similar arrangements.
Despite deep anti-Japanese sentiment — including a bullet fired into the Tsukamoto barn, Fletcher continued to work. When the families returned home in the fall of 1945, their farms and homes were intact—the Tsukamotos’ home had even been cleaned by Fletcher’s wife Teresa—and half of the profits were waiting for them.
His inspirational story is recounted in history books, including “We the People: A Story of Internment in America” by Elizabeth Pinkerton and Mary Tsukamoto, whose farm he saved.
Before I even begin my strange tale, I want to be sensitive to negative colloquialisms such as “‘Burying the hatchet’.
The use of this term trivializes the ancient peace-making ceremony in which two fighting nations symbolically buried or cached their weapons of war.
Offensive language like this is a result of centuries of violence and continues to perpetuate stereotypes that have real-life impacts on Native communities.
Indigenous Peoples and their cultural traditions are real and deserve respect. They are not historical artifacts, caricatures, or mascots. (radicalcopyeditor.com)
But I don’t know how else to describe what I just found in my garden…an actual buried hatchet.
Look at it!
It’s a joke from the Universe, right?
I have no idea how long it’s been there or how it became buried near a path that leads to some steps to the second level.
I can’t even figure out how, after all this time, it became UNburied enough for me to notice that bright blue handle.
So with deepest respect, I brushed away the dirt around the buried hatchet.
I’m not sure what to do next. Dig it up? Leave it there? Anyone care to hazard a guess about what it means?
Before cutting the branch of a tree or removing a flower, tell the spirit of the tree or plant what you are going to do, so that they can withdraw their energy from that place and not feel the cut so strong.
When you go to nature and want to take a stone that was in the river, ask the river keeper if he allows you to take one of his sacred stones.
Honor…
If you have to climb a mountain or make a pilgrimage through the jungle, ask permission from the spirits and guardians of the place. It is very important that you communicate even if you do not feel, do not listen or do not see. Enter with respect to each place, since Nature listens to you, sees you and feels you.
Every movement you make in the microcosm generates a great impact on the macrocosm.
Respect…
Honor life in its many forms and be aware that each being is fulfilling its purpose, nothing was created to fill spaces, everything and everyone is here remembering our mission, remembering who we are and awakening from the sacred dream to return home. Repost from @Sharyl WhiteHawk
Tree connection…
Find a tree that calls to you. As you approach the tree, remember that it is a living, breathing energy. Ask if you may sit with it. You may hear a rustling of the leaves or hear a voice in your head or feel a slight wind brush across you granting permission. Many cultures believe that the shadow of the tree is a portal or entry point into the tree’s realm. Let your intuition guide you in this matter.
Sit with some part of your body touching the tree’s skin, the bark, with your own. Feel your heartbeat as it blends with that of the tree. You may feel the rushing of the sap through the veins of the tree. Match it with the blood flowing in your own veins.
Allow your roots to ground into the earth with the tree’s roots. Reach your arms into the sky as the tree’s branches are reaching. Breathe this experience.
You may wish to just relish this connection or you may have a question or some guidance you are seeking. Allow the tree to respond to you in its own way, staying open to the limitless possibilities of this connection.
You may also wish to commune with the tree’s spirit or the faeries that live in or around this precious being. Also be mindful of the animals and birds that interact with this tree while you are there. Perhaps they have a message for you as well.
Fortunately, a growing number of cities and counties are opting to prohibit fireworks, including recently adopted bans in Portland, Oregon; San Jose, California; Detroit, Michigan; and King County, Washington (home to Seattle).
The Animal Legal Defense Fund advocates in favor of such bans to protect animals and the ecosystems in which they live.
Companion Animals at Risk
Every July like clockwork, news articles and social media posts are published sharing advice for animal guardians about how to keep their companions as safe and calm as possible on the Fourth of July.
And, every July like clockwork, municipal animal shelters fill to the brim with dogs and cats who’ve escaped their homes and yards, becoming lost as they try to flee the sounds, smells, and vibrations of fireworks.
Wildlife Suffer for Fireworks
As for animals in the wild, they face perils of their own as a result of fireworks. “We know what to expect, but wildlife don’t,” the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service notes, adding that “[t]he abrupt lights and sounds are often seen as a threat by nesting bald eagles and easily startle great blue herons and other colonial nesting birds.”
Additional Problems for Humans and the Environment
Fireworks have environmental and public health impacts that are rarely considered or fully appreciated. They release particulate matter and toxins, adversely affecting air quality. They also pose a serious risk of igniting wildfires, particularly in areas facing dry conditions.
Many humans are also bothered by fireworks, including people with post-traumatic stress disorder, those on the autism spectrum, and others with sensory processing challenges.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 