Nature can be cruel-Predators are everywhere. – Emily Thorne, fictional character in T.V. series Revenge
Harmony with land is like harmony with a friend…you cannot love game and hate predators…the land is one. – Aldo Leopold, author, naturalist (1887-1948)
Rain fell like manna from heaven. It came in the night with thunderous roars and flashes of light that filled the room. By daybreak it was still a gentle rain. I gathered plants from the porch to soak up even a bit of this moisture full of nitrogen from the lightning. Wilhelmina and I sat on the porch enjoying the coolness of the breeze. Hummingbirds fed, darting here and there. One dominant hummingbird continually chased away the others. There are five feeders but the mean bird would leave his watering hole and shoo the others away. The mean bird continued until no one was feeding.
Watching the hummingbird event reminded me Prairie living is not always bliss. There are seasons when it can be quite hard. The ground is hard. In places it would take a hammer to break the soil. There are cracks exceeding two inches wide. I look down into the crack wondering if I might see China. No amount of watering is enough.
We live with roaming predators: eagles, owls, hawks, other birds of prey, coyotes, possums, raccoons, snakes and even the occasional alligator. At one time or another all of these can be found around us.
A little over two months ago, Wilhelmina’s brother and the love of my pet life, Harry, was abducted. My heart is broken and we are bewildered. We’ve heard no coyotes. We’ve seen no evidence. No buzzards are gathering. We’ve searched diligently. Harry was not a wanderer. We called him Scary Harry, because he was afraid of everything. He was strong, equipped with claws, teeth, speed, excellent eyesight and hearing. He was smart and weighed in at 11 pounds, not easy to carry through the air with the greatest of ease. We have no closure.
Over the years we’ve lost six adult Pekin ducks from the lake by predators.
Previous goldfish have perished. Each one had feathery fins like angel wings. No predator was involved. I raised eight more goldfish from the size of an anchovy. Goldfish can be very reactive once they understand you’ll be feeding them. I often sit on the bench by the pond and watch. Goldfish are playful.
It was early when I strolled to the garden for feeding only to find the goldfish pond was devastated. Lily pads were shredded. Water was murky and there was no sign of the goldfish or the little frog that lurks there. Something had torn up the pond. Lately we’ve had a buildup in the raccoon community. My Google search said, “Raccoons will get in your goldfish pond. They love sushi.” I ran the net through the pond and found two goldfish lethargic and wandering; six goldfish were gone.
On my knees I picked out the shredded lily pads and the muck and talked quietly to the two fish hoping they would recover. I went to town and returned home with more goldfish. I put out Havahart traps though my heart was not in it. I wanted to strangle the murderer.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
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