WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE

“Let the wild rumpus start!” --- Maurice Sendak

After living in mostly an urban setting for most of my life, my wife Debbie and I moved to a country setting on the outskirts of Placerville, California, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. At the end of the lane, our new home sits on a ridge overlooking the valley below. Our view is amazing! Looking eastward, we enjoy the sunrise every day through our windows and can watch the full moon as it rises over the trees.
In our front yard, Debbie has spent the summer season cutting, clipping, and trimming back the overgrowth of bushes and trees. She constructed a cactus garden and is looking forward to planting a new garden next year.
Behind our home is a tree line filled with California buckeyes, an assortment of oaks, and pines. It is also where the wild things are.
 

The herd of black-tailed deer foraging along the hillside has been a common sight since moving here. Our local population, with their distinctive black tails, wanders about the property in the early mornings and evenings. Shy at first, they seemed to have gotten used to us.
In hopes of them not eating her plants, Debbie has planted deer-resistant plants and offers them squirrel food, of course, which makes the neighborhood grey squirrel population happy also.
The does and their fawns have been roaming through the yard on their spindly legs most of the summer. They have tried with limited success to eat from the bird feeder.
While as of late, even the bucks with their velvet-covered antlers have joined in.

A bushy gray fox and a long black-tailed jackrabbit have routinely welcomed me home as I have driven up the lane. Debbie admired both the tail of the fox and the ears of the rabbit. Commenting that both seem much bigger than any other parts of their bodies. Shyer than the deer, they are gone in a flash.

The pleasant surprise is the covey of California quail that are seen around our home.
The stately male with his distinguishing head plume acts as the lookout while the hens and their tiny babies scurry about pecking the ground.
And there are a lot of them. A single quail’s nest sometimes has as many as 28 eggs meaning all the adult birds care for and protect all the chicks.
Even smaller are the hummingbirds buzzing about our front porch feeder. The little birds are definitely entertaining with their aerial acrobatics.

The excitement came early in the summer when Debbie spotted a rather large black bear rattling through the trees and brush near the house. While it was concerning to have a 380 lbs. bear in the yard. It was humorous to hear my wife talk to it like it was the neighbor's lost pet.
"Go away minster bear," she said from the safety of the bedroom window, "There is nothing for you here. So, you better move along."
Which it did. But it still reminded us to secure our trash cans during the night.

Naturalist John Muir wrote, “Any glimpse into the life of an animal quickens our own and makes it so much the larger and better in every way.”

As Thanksgiving approaches, I wanted to take a moment to ponder how thankful I am for the wildlife. It is hard to for me put into words how grateful I am for wildlife and wild places.
As a human being living in cohabitation with animals and plants, I realize how important it is for all of us to protect nature and show compassion towards all wild things.

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