Wherever there are wild animals in the world, there is always an opportunity for caring, compassion, and kindness.
— Paul Oxton, Wild Heart Wildlife Foundation
A wise man takes care of his animals. Proverbs 12:10
There in the pyracantha shrub sat a mockingbird. The bird was dove gray and black. The tree was full of glossy green leaves surrounded by red berries. The scene looked like a Christmas card. I stopped short of the bird, only about two feet away and at eye level. The bird didn’t move so I talked sweetly to him. For a few minutes we looked at each other while I introduced myself. He made no response, so I whistled. The bird being a mockingbird, I thought would at least mimic my whistle. I made a few quick whistles sounding like chirps. The mockingbird flew away. I have no idea what I might have said or if it was offensive. Animals are amazing. Each one has habits, likes and dislikes, and a personality. I want to know them.
My favorite part of owning a cat, a dog, a bird, a duck, a rabbit, even goldfish is learning to know the animal, especially one that can learn to trust you and want to be near you. I say that as I was trying to write with a cat curled on my lap. Harry occasionally looked up sleepy eyed and wrapped both his front feet around my arm. That meant it was time to stop writing for a moment and pay full attention to him. Then he curled back up, closed his eyes and let go of my arm.
The girl cat, Wilhelmina, accepts that Harry is boss. Harry is bigger and a bit bossy. Wilhelmina was over on the couch, also curled up and sleeping. Every now and then she opened one eye to see if it was her turn to curl up in my lap. At that moment it was not.
Outside the window twilight descended. Where the lake is draining and the stumps are reappearing the great egrets arrive. There must be a hundred white birds atop the stumps. When the lake was full, one or two would visit us. They were quite solitary and quiet. But now that they are roosting here, they squawk loudly at each other until they settle down. By morning they will be gone to parts unknown until the next night.
At approximately the same time as the egrets appear, deer families migrate across the field in front of the lake. They mosey along, grazing on pecans, acorns, and vegetation. Anything the squirrels have left behind. As sunset falls on the horizon the deer can only be seen as silhouettes against the sky and lake.
We had some new visitors on the little lake that didn’t stay long. Eight bufflehead ducks, four males and four females. They joined us for a couple of days; then three couples left. We are a wintering ground for the bufflehead. The male has a large head that looks black and white from a distance. A close look shows bright green and purple. The female is less showy. By the end of the week all buffleheads had moved on.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected]
