OMG! I am so very sick of the huge American Crows that have moved into my neighborhood. As the sun comes up this morning and the other little birds are waking their young families with happy little ditties some fellow up there is joining in with his horrid irritating call. Now his mate is cawing. How I hate them!
Aside from their crass and loud screeching they are determined to berate, in mass, any of the foxes that travel through and hunt in my yard. I love the foxes. They, on the other hand, are silent and perfect and beautiful. They are interesting to watch with their own individual mannerisms and they munch on squirrels and mice. I can’t have a cat. But a random fox will do in a pinch.
Did I tell you this story before? No matter, it’s a good one.
I glanced out my kitchen window one morning last spring a saw a shape at the top of my property. (I am literally on a hill. West side up, east side down.) A fox was sitting on a big paving stone that I had planted in that hillside as one of the steps I buried during Covid. I had all of these bricks and nothing but time so I spent that hot summer digging a path into the wilderness that I have for years been trying to tame into a proper garden. It’s coming along.
It is a piece of shoddy workmanship to be sure. Jimmy would roll his eyes at me and offer suggestions. I didn’t do anything “right.” No solid base, no sand, no level, just me digging in the dirt, drenched in sweat and Deet, on a mission.
Someone had given me these cement pavers. You know, the ones from the box-store that are designed to resemble four pavers put together. They are clumsy and heavy for a person of my size and condition. But I managed. I sorted out the slope and pulled out the ground cover. I dug and eyeballed and dug some more. They had to step neatly down to the brick path I had already installed and then to the patio which was next to come.
After moving and digging some more and adding dirt and bricks for forward stability, one at a time I got them settled. Good enough for this old lady anyway!
After five years let’s say that they have now resettled. Most slope a little to the east and north. A professional landscaper would be aghast and you, as the home-owner, would complain and insist that they be re-laid. To me, they are in there to stay, part of the history and ambience of this yard, settled in like old gravestones, not exactly level, but they do the job they were tasked with.
So, at the top of this reckless stairway sits a fox calmly chomping on his early morning snack, not at all bothered by the crows which had not yet moved in. After his breakfast he leisurely ambled away. I snuck out to investigate the leavings and found only a bushy tail. That’s it. Interesting. I eventually dressed and during the course of my morning discarded the thing in the yard-waste bin. It had been a healthy little squirrel!
Cut to a seemingly unrelated story: My new neighbors to the east are a fantastic young family with two beautiful children, five and seven. They often come over to borrow from the little lending library of kids books I have kept. He likes Captain Underpants, she likes all of the picture books.
They have discovered the now very old tree house at the back of the hedge. One day they brought their friends to have a look. They knocked at the door as usual to ask permission, which was, of course granted and ran off to explore. Next thing I knew they were climbing and swinging and had decided to make it their new “Club-house,” as you would. They raked and moved logs and wanted a spade to plant seeds in the horrible clay soil. I steered them away from that. So, they raked some more and made a plan. The girls would have the top platform and the boys the underneath. Then they ran off for supper and other adventures.
One of the next times they came (two girls, three boys) they explored beneath my mighty hedge. There is an area you can enter at the top of my yard that opens into a nice cavernous space. I actually erected our tent there one time. I am sure Jimmy thought, “What is she up to now?” But it was a fun experiment that soon got packed back up into its bag!
Now, because of the wind and the storms and my neglect the floor of this cavern is littered with branches of all sorts and sizes.
They went to work again, moving branches and placing the broken limbs in a tee-pee like manner and raking some more. One of the boys was digging with a hand spade. I don’t know why. I let them be.
The next day I checked out their progress. Impressive work I’d say for five and seven-year-olds. Good job. I also checked my new Hosta garden at the entrance to the ‘cavern’. Yes, I made a new garden on the edge of the hedge last year. I extended it this spring. What can I say? It’s pretty.
In the corner that abuts the hedge they had dropped four of the largest logs. Six to eight inches in diameter and sixteen to twenty inches long. Heavy buggers. What in the world? I examined more closely.
Partly covered by that wooden coffin lay the pelt of that poor dead squirrel in tact as if it had been filleted by a proficient chef with a sharp knife. I moved the logs and again deposited the furry thing into the yard-waste bin.
Circle complete.
Only one plant was broken during the incident. It will grow back next year if it hasn’t already.
