Category: The land

A couple of days ago, a gang of crows drove off a hawk and saved the life of a chicken. Now I would like to know how to put up a big sign that says “Crows Welcome Here.”

I Googled, and it seems I’m not the first person to have chickens saved by crows. There’s actually a lot of material on the web about how to attract crows. It boils down to: Feed them, and call them.

For feeding them, I need to find a sack of peanuts in the shell. Calling them requires a “crow call,” which I’ve ordered from Amazon.

Almost every day this winter, I’ve had a gathering of crows in the woods behind the abbey, usually in the afternoon. Sometimes it’s only a few crows, but sometimes it’s hundreds. On the day the crows drove off the hawk, I could tell from the sound — angry and agitated crow sounds as opposed to social chatter — that something was going on. I dashed outdoors and saw a dozen or two crows harassing a hawk, which was right above my chickens, over the orchard. Soon the hawk flew off, chased by crows. I suspect that this is not the first time that has happened. As for the chickens, they watch the sky, and they certainly can distinguish hawks from other birds. The chickens pay no attention to the crows, but they scream and run for cover when they see a hawk.

It’s sad how many people consider crows to be pests. Like moles, or possums, I’ve never known them to do the slightest harm.

Now I’ve got to figure out a crow strategy. If they learn that I’m putting out food for them, they’ll keep an eye out for food and, in doing that, also keep an eye out for hawks.

It has been months since I’ve had a chance to get a photo of the white deer. I saw her this morning from an upstairs window. I grabbed the camera and shot the photo from the front porch. Then I dashed upstairs to get a telephoto lens. But by the time I had attached the lens, she had vanished like a ghost.

Though the local hunters are well aware of her and have pledged not to shoot her, deer season is still open. I believe it’s a standing joke in the area that she knows she’s safe here. She actually was lying down in this photo. I’m starting to suspect that she shelters under a large rock formation downhill from the abbey, sort of a tiny cave. A small stream runs past the rocks. Under that rock would make a very cozy, and rather magical, deer den.

Maybe I need a sign that says “Deer Refuge.”

Sunset on the opposite ridge, shot through an upstairs window. A cold front is blowing in. Click here for a high-resolution version.

It’s apparent that I have a herd, or maybe an extended family, of deer that live in the woods just below and behind the abbey. During the day, I sometimes see them moving around just inside the woods, mostly hidden by the foliage. But at dusk and just after dawn (and no doubt during the night) they come into the yard and eat whatever they want.

This is the first buck I’ve ever seen in the yard. He was with a young doe. I don’t know much about deer family relationships, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re yearling siblings who still hang out near their mother.

I got a good look at the resident twins and their mama yesterday while they were snacking in the back yard. Everyone looks very sleek, healthy, and well fed. The rainy spring has been very good for all the wildlife. I have never seen so many lightning bugs.

Every Southern landscape requires mimosa. We were late in acquiring it, because such old-fashioned items are not always easy to find. Plus, the first effort to get one started failed. But this mimosa, which was planted just last fall, is blooming for the first time. It’s in a chicken-wire cage to protect it from the deer. It will be safe from the deer after it’s tall enough.

If only I had a video camera with a nice, long lens, it would be obvious what the squirrel was up to. In ordinary photos, it requires explaining. The squirrel was sliding along the railing, scratching its tummy. From the looks of its tummy, it hasn’t been going hungry, thanks to my peach trees.

The squirrels can leap straight out of the woods into the poplar tree that overhangs the deck. From there they can drop down onto the deck to hang out. Sometimes they go in for a little house-climbing. And they like to look in the back door and see what the cat is up to.

What’s the first stop for deer-mothers introducing their fawns to the world? The abbey’s yard, apparently. This one’s legs were still wobbly.