Dove and Hawk Encounter

Intently absorbed in my dishwashing chore, I heard a scuffling sort of sound from the backyard and looked out the kitchen window.

Perched on top of the canvas awning shading a garden bench was a giant hawk. I followed his eyes and saw a dove rush for safety under a lavender bush.

I watched him fly a few feet away to the fence and grabbed my camera. It’s not as sharp a photo as I wished, but it’s better than nothing!

I hoped the dove had escaped even though I know doves are a favorite meal of birds of prey. Honestly, with all the rats and mice and bunnies running rampant in my garden, I think those creatures are much better options than a poor little bird.

I heard a familiar “coocoocoo” — take a look at what I found on my deck, none other than the dove. She wasn’t alone; there was a baby dove, too! They weren’t at all scared of me as I crept closer and closer to see if anyone was injured by the hawk.

I’ve never before seen them on the deck. As usual, I didn’t want to interfere unless it was necessary. They sat close together for a couple of hours, then mom flew up to the roof.

She spent a long time calling to the baby to encourage him to fly to her, to no avail. Just as I was prepping a box with a soft towel to scoop up the baby for a visit to Project Wildlife, the mom came back.

This time, they flew away together.

It was a happy ending for the doves and I was once again impressed but not surprised by the obvious caring and affectionate behavior of animals to their children that often far surpasses human maternal actions.

Mom’s devotion to her child was inspiring. Who can claim animals aren’t sentient beings?

Animal moms are some of the best moms on this planet.

Don’t Move, Hummingbird!

Finally, I was swift enough to snap a couple photos of this tiny hummingbird perched for the briefest of moments on a string of outdoor lights.

I haven’t had one nest on the deck in a couple of years, but they’re all around.

Hello, friend!

Bobcat Sanctuary

I wonder if this gorgeous bobcat knew how much I miss Bandit, my kitty daughter, and decided to take a before dawn stroll through the upper gardens at Casa de Enchanted Seashells.

I have a new wildlife camera; one that has audio as well as video, but no sounds emanated from my nocturnal visitor.

It’s been a long, long while since my coyotes stopped by but I’m hopeful they’ll pass through very soon.

I placed my older camera in the lawn area and I’ve been enlightened as to what goes on while I sleep. There are a lot of RATS seemingly coming out of nowhere, more than I had suspected. I placed white mesh bags around every grape cluster on the vines and that seems to be working to protect them from being totally destroyed by those rodents. I’ll try the bags next year when the apple tree bears fruit again. At this point, I’ll try almost anything.

I can’t tell if this is a male or female, so I’ll need to find a name that works for either gender. Any suggestions?

Remembering Bandit

I love these photos of Bandit because as sweet as she looks, this girl took absolutely no shit from anyone.

One minute she would allow herself to be stroked and loved and her long silky fur brushed, and seemingly for no reason at all, except maybe to herself in her weird kitty brain, she’d lash out and inflict serious damage with her teeth or claws.

Late in life, Bandit was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism and chronic renal failure. With the help of a great vet, we did all we could to extend her quality of life as long as possible, but on July 26, 2010, at the age of thirteen, there was no denying that her journey as my spiritual kitty daughter had come to an end. The doc came over and assisted her transition over the Rainbow Bridge.

Bandit is the one I still dream about; freaky lucid dreams as if she’s still here with me.

Rest in peace, my furry little soulmate.

A Mourning Dove and a Scott’s Oriole Came to Visit

One brown and gray, the other vibrant yellow and black; both exquisitely perfect in their own way.

I was actually trying to take pictures of a hummingbird perched on a string of garden lights, but I wasn’t quick enough to capture him and the camera lens picked up the dove and the oriole waiting around to be noticed.

My Lovely Lizard

It’s time to grab the camera when this little guy strikes a pose!

He’s reclining on an outdoor sculpture of (what else) seashells and starfish.

It seems a lovely vantage point to observe the garden. Nice and warm in the sun, he stayed in that same position for quite a while.

#WordlessWednesday

Death, be not proud

Yesterday in the late afternoon I took a walk around the lagoon.

Although I’m a fast walker and normally gaze straight ahead, at one point I looked down and saw a hawk feather and then another and another and my eyes followed a trail of feathers to the tragic and somber sight of a juvenile hawk that must have had a catastrophic collision with a vehicle.

His poor little mangled body was crushed beyond recognition but I was able to collect a handful of feathers. I thought I’d bring them home and design some kind of creation to honor his short life.

Native Americans believed a hawk’s death is a good omen and it’s symbolic of when their troubles will end and they will receive blessings. The appearance of a dead hawk is an indication of a significant event or could also be suggestive of a needed life transformation.

I immediately thought of the Donne poem, Death, be not proud. I’m not exactly sure that the meaning works in this situation, but since that’s the first thing that came to mind, here it is.

HOLY Sonnet: Death, be not proud

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou’art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy’or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

John Donne – 1571-1631

Scott’s Oriole

My bright and beautiful Scott’s Orioles are back! From bunnies to birds, I don’t have to go anywhere to be entertained.

I can’t say rats are bringers of joy, though, Or the mouse I saw this morning, but thank goodness it was outside so I didn’t have to completely freak out.

I think my little wounded bun is going to be OK. Fur is growing back and he’s still eating the greens I put out for him, which is a whole lot better than enduring the trauma of being captured.

Backyard Bunny Drama

Every spring I see baby bunnies but the core family of about five rabbits stays the same. I can only assume that the babies grow up and move away to other locations.

This year it’s a bit different. For about a week, I’ve noticed a baby bun as small as my hand, hiding under lavender bushes or in the plants around the deck. He was one of the bunnies who was eating an apple that got stolen by that horribly disgusting rat.

A couple days ago I accidentally got him wet as I was watering and he ran right by me so I got a good look. There seemed to be a wound of some sort on top of his head, not actively bleeding, but if I had a guess, it has the appearance of talons or claws. Maybe a hawk or owl grabbed it but for some reason, didn’t fly away with dinner. These wounds weren’t there when I had previously seen him.

I called Project Wildlife to find out if there’s anything I should do or could do for this little guy. They advised me to monitor the bun for a day or so to see if the wound looked better or worse or if the bun seemed less mobile and in distress. If so, they told me to put him in a box and bring to their location.

It makes me very sad to see any injured animal, and I want to do what I can to help. I put a few pieces of garden lettuce in the place I’ve most often seen this bun. A few minutes later, they were gone. I put more out with other veggies like small carrots and red pepper slices, and watched him eat those, too.

I’ve been moving closer and closer. He’s becoming more comfortable with my presence which is great because I want to cause the least amount of trauma if I have to throw a towel over him to put in a box lined with soft t-shirts.

So far, so good. As long as he eats and still runs around, I will continue to monitor him today, and think about bringing him to Project Wildlife tomorrow.

Here’s a photo of the little one with two separate head wounds. Doesn’t it look like he was grabbed by something?

Talking About Coyotes | Compassionate Coexistence

From the wonderful people at Project Coyote, download a free ebook to learn more about the beautiful songdog: Coyotes in our Midst:
https://projectcoyote.org/resources/books/?eType=EmailBlastContent&eId=8962dc96-ad12-412d-9113-cb717cf36b2c

And definitely watch this video encouraging the concept of compassionate coexistence: