Winter with our Neighbors
27/01/12 05:23
Life in the hills yields a treasure of neighbors. We enjoy our human neighbors and feel supported to live in a place where people know each other by name and by sight. But we also enjoy living in a place where the houses are far apart enough to grant a bit of privacy. And we get a lot of joy out of our non-human neighbors. Every day we have deer and turkeys that cross our lawn and pause for a bit of eating. I know that there are problems with the critters. There have been winters when the deer killed young trees in our yard when the snow covered the grass and finding forage was more difficult. Turkeys are messy creatures and when they decide to come up on the deck to raid the bird feeders, a power washer is needed to clean up after them. People have been living in this area for many years. Enough generations of critters have passed that we are a normal part of their environment.
We’ve noticed the changes in the animals over the years. When we moved into this house 16 years ago, the whitetail deer were skitterish and wild. If there were deer in the yard and we turned on a porch light or came out onto the deck they would lift their tails and run away. These days they are used to us. They don’t run when the porch light comes on. In the morning when I go out after the paper they scarcely lift their heads from eating. It is not uncommon for me to approach within 50 feet of a deer without the deer doing anything more dramatic than staring at me.
There are simply more turkeys around these days than there were 15 years ago. Last spring’s chicks are as big as the adult birds, so the gangs roaming the neighborhood are large enough to challenge cars on the street and circle around a neighborhood cat who things, if even only briefly, that stalking such a bird would be a fascination. Turkeys are creatures of habit and they cruise through our yard at the same time day after day, taking the same route as the day before. In the late summer and fall there are insects in the yard. As far as I am concerned, they are welcome to eat all of the grasshoppers they want. But our yard isn’t much for seeds. Because I mow the grass it doesn’t go to seed. The turkeys will occasionally find something the like in our compost pile. I think that they travel through our yard on some ancient memory that is passed down from generations. A few years ago, when my mother was living with us, she really enjoyed watching the turkeys. A couple of times, I threw some corn on the deck to attract them closer for her to watch. It took a long time before they stopped coming up on the deck every day, even after the free food had long since stopped.
Basically, I don’t believe that it is in the best interests of the wild critters for us to feed them. The hills are rich in food sources and artificial feeding interferes with the natural cycles of abundance and scarcity and alters population patterns. So if a few handfuls of corn have messed up the turkey population, I’m sorry. I quit doing it several years ago.
It is a strange year around here, however. When we walk through the woods our steps are mostly accompanied by the crackle of dry grass. Yesterday, there were a few muddy spots as the snow that had been lying in the shady areas was melting. What was absent, however, was the crunch of snow underfoot. There just hasn’t been much snow out there. The winter has been unseasonably mild.
There are parts of a mild winter that I don’t mind. Lower snowplowing bills at the church help us invest more money in mission and ministry. Using less energy to heat our home and church are appreciated savings. But in general, I like winter. I love the look of snow on the trees and the adventure of an environment that challenges us. The light is dramatically different when the ground is covered with snow. Bright days are brilliantly so with all of the sunlight bouncing off of the snow and the stark white contrasting with the deep blue of the sky. Morning and evening colors reflect off of the snow extending the sunrise glow to an entire vista of land and sky right out my window.
This curiously open winter, even in the high country, has its impact on the critters as well. Food is easy to get, right where they are. The deer that occupy the higher country in the central hills have no incentive to move down, which in turn allows other populations to stay where they are. In some winters, some of the deer from our area make there way into town to feast on the fare at the city parks and other places where lots of fertilizer means there is sweet grass under the snow, where snowplows clearing walks leave bits of grass exposed, and the city’s use of salt to melt ice on streets provides a huge salt lick for the animals. The critters are enjoying a life of relative ease this winter. I wake to find them sleeping in the neighbor’s yard instead of foraging in the wee hours. They have plenty to eat and there is no need to exert energy. They can stay down, much a few stalks of nearby grass and chew their cud as they wait for the warmth of the sun.
I know that the hills can offer plenty of snow in the form of spring blizzards. We’ve lived here long enough for us to have more stories of being snowed in during April or May than other months of the year. But it wouldn’t make me upset if we got a few more flakes and even a cold spell that lasted for more than a day or two. I know it would be harder for our animal neighbors, but this incredible mildness seems quite unnatural.
One thing about it, I’ve begun to get to know my neighbors better. I recognize several individual deer and there are some that I can remember from the days when they were spotted fawns taking their first steps.
If I start recognizing individual turkeys, however, I think it is time to worry . . .
We’ve noticed the changes in the animals over the years. When we moved into this house 16 years ago, the whitetail deer were skitterish and wild. If there were deer in the yard and we turned on a porch light or came out onto the deck they would lift their tails and run away. These days they are used to us. They don’t run when the porch light comes on. In the morning when I go out after the paper they scarcely lift their heads from eating. It is not uncommon for me to approach within 50 feet of a deer without the deer doing anything more dramatic than staring at me.
There are simply more turkeys around these days than there were 15 years ago. Last spring’s chicks are as big as the adult birds, so the gangs roaming the neighborhood are large enough to challenge cars on the street and circle around a neighborhood cat who things, if even only briefly, that stalking such a bird would be a fascination. Turkeys are creatures of habit and they cruise through our yard at the same time day after day, taking the same route as the day before. In the late summer and fall there are insects in the yard. As far as I am concerned, they are welcome to eat all of the grasshoppers they want. But our yard isn’t much for seeds. Because I mow the grass it doesn’t go to seed. The turkeys will occasionally find something the like in our compost pile. I think that they travel through our yard on some ancient memory that is passed down from generations. A few years ago, when my mother was living with us, she really enjoyed watching the turkeys. A couple of times, I threw some corn on the deck to attract them closer for her to watch. It took a long time before they stopped coming up on the deck every day, even after the free food had long since stopped.
Basically, I don’t believe that it is in the best interests of the wild critters for us to feed them. The hills are rich in food sources and artificial feeding interferes with the natural cycles of abundance and scarcity and alters population patterns. So if a few handfuls of corn have messed up the turkey population, I’m sorry. I quit doing it several years ago.
It is a strange year around here, however. When we walk through the woods our steps are mostly accompanied by the crackle of dry grass. Yesterday, there were a few muddy spots as the snow that had been lying in the shady areas was melting. What was absent, however, was the crunch of snow underfoot. There just hasn’t been much snow out there. The winter has been unseasonably mild.
There are parts of a mild winter that I don’t mind. Lower snowplowing bills at the church help us invest more money in mission and ministry. Using less energy to heat our home and church are appreciated savings. But in general, I like winter. I love the look of snow on the trees and the adventure of an environment that challenges us. The light is dramatically different when the ground is covered with snow. Bright days are brilliantly so with all of the sunlight bouncing off of the snow and the stark white contrasting with the deep blue of the sky. Morning and evening colors reflect off of the snow extending the sunrise glow to an entire vista of land and sky right out my window.
This curiously open winter, even in the high country, has its impact on the critters as well. Food is easy to get, right where they are. The deer that occupy the higher country in the central hills have no incentive to move down, which in turn allows other populations to stay where they are. In some winters, some of the deer from our area make there way into town to feast on the fare at the city parks and other places where lots of fertilizer means there is sweet grass under the snow, where snowplows clearing walks leave bits of grass exposed, and the city’s use of salt to melt ice on streets provides a huge salt lick for the animals. The critters are enjoying a life of relative ease this winter. I wake to find them sleeping in the neighbor’s yard instead of foraging in the wee hours. They have plenty to eat and there is no need to exert energy. They can stay down, much a few stalks of nearby grass and chew their cud as they wait for the warmth of the sun.
I know that the hills can offer plenty of snow in the form of spring blizzards. We’ve lived here long enough for us to have more stories of being snowed in during April or May than other months of the year. But it wouldn’t make me upset if we got a few more flakes and even a cold spell that lasted for more than a day or two. I know it would be harder for our animal neighbors, but this incredible mildness seems quite unnatural.
One thing about it, I’ve begun to get to know my neighbors better. I recognize several individual deer and there are some that I can remember from the days when they were spotted fawns taking their first steps.
If I start recognizing individual turkeys, however, I think it is time to worry . . .