Tag: rural life

Wild Animals. OMG.

Do you ever see wild animals?

Dear Blog Prompt Writers,

Please remember that not all bloggers live in urban or suburban locations. Out here in a rural part of a very empty county in a state as big as many countries, we do see (more often hear) wild animals. We call them native wildlife.

Someone is tired from warding off wild animals.

Today’s count included 37 bird species, an unknown number of coyotes, around four pond cooters (who I thought might have dug a hole by now; it’s chilly), two very vocal squirrels, a large rat or mouse, two cottontails, and some number of swiftly moving deer.

We are usually in the bushes

It’s too cold for snakes right now, and the armadillo population is staying away from Goldie. I hope she and Alfred are also intimidated the feral hogs (I have seen little evidence lately).

I’m very far from Goldie

Neighbors report hearing cats, which could be feral house cats (usually dispensed with by raptors), bobcats (plenty of those), or the big cat that was last seen by the farrier.

As you can see, we blend in.

I often see opossums, skunks, and raccoons here, along with shrews and mice (ugh). Foxes have raised families next door at Sara’s!

This one did not spray any of our dogs.

A couple of times river otters have visited, and beavers live nearby, but I haven’t seen them. Oh, and pocket gophers, which are here, but not on the part of the property I hang out in.

This one was at a zoo, not here.

So yes. I do see wild animals. Thanks for asking. I’ll do you a favor and not list the insects and arachnids. I do have lists on the blog site, though.

Your observant country reporter,

Suna

Risky Moves

Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.

One risk I took was buying and moving into property in a rural part of a state full of people who don’t like people like me. I was concerned that we hermits of the Hermits’ Rest would be truly isolated, other than the folks next door.

It would be just me and the dragonflies

I’d always lived in small cities or suburbs, not rural properties. I didn’t know if I’d be able to adapt to the challenges of living with no HOA to keep things tidy, no convenient shopping areas with a Walgreens and a Starbucks every few blocks, and plenty of biting and stinging creatures lurking everywhere.

Prickly pears do have thorns, but it’s wonderful when they bloom.

I’m so glad I discovered I’m quite flexible, I can adapt, and there are plenty of people here that enjoy people like me. I treasure the wide variety of friends I’ve made in this small town, rich and poor, conservative and liberal alike. And it’s such a privilege to have family in our little commune. I’d never have known this was possible without taking the risk of joining Lee in his retirement dreams.

And I’d never have learned so much about the natural world around me. That’s a green heron.

Now I’m the one taking care of livestock, understanding where the dangers are as well as the wonders, and learning new skills every day. I’m bemused by visitors in their shorts and flip flops running from every flying insect and prickly plant. Or worse, being afraid of chickens, horses, or dogs. (You can respect them without fearing them.)

Apache feels as if I don’t respect him, by washing him with medication and putting so much on his legs. But that’s stopping flies!

It takes all kinds, of course, and I’m glad there are options. I bet I could even find community and new things to learn in a downtown of a city. Maybe in my 80s…

Speaking of friends, I’ve come to view Ssssally here as a friend. Might as well.