Bones and skulls are a good source of calcium and minerals for rodents. A close look at this deer antler reveals their tiny teeth marks.
On my trips through the bush I sometimes pick up these castoffs and remains. I currently had two old coyote skulls on the deck that I intended to add to a big pot of flowers.
But I hadn’t counted on the new neighbour.
This summer a changing of the guard occurred on one of the nearby middens (
aka squirrel homes).
The young male squirrel must have assumed our house was part of his territory as he often appeared on the deck. On warm days he’d visit the bird bath for a drink. (Yuck. Bird poo and feathers.)
One day I heard a kafuffle outside. As I glanced out I saw my neighbour making off with one of the coyote skulls. It was slow going. The darn thing was nearly as big as him.
By the time I got outside the skull had landed on the grass and the black eyes that turned my way had a
What?-Not-me! look . I retrieved the skull.
The next day when I went to plant the flowers the other skull was missing. I searched the deck, the grass, the gravel. Nope. Gone.
A few days later I visited my neighbour. Yup. There was the skull, perched on the pile of cone scales.
I paced out the distance: 50 metres (more than 50 yards). He’d dragged that skull through grass, across gravel and into a tangle of forest understory.
At that point I decided the flower arrangement didn’t need two skulls. He’d earned his.
Moss only grows on the north side of trees. Do survival texts still tell us to look for moss if we want to know which way is north?
It used to be standard rhetoric for Boy Scouts (and presumably any Girl Guide who chose to wander into the woods on her own, unaccompanied by an aforementioned Boy Scout).
Another good story debunked by Mother Nature. This grove of aspens is facing south; each tree sports a dark green collar of moss around its base.
Northside-only moss is on par with leaving a trail of breadcrumbs — best for fairy tales. A compass or GPS makes for a safer travelling companion. 🙂
A herd of bison graze our north boundary
They are cautious
Leery of humans
I chanced upon them this afternoon
Poked my lens between spruce branches and wire fence
Took my shots
Then the old bull turned
And eye to eye
common alpine butterfly is anything but, at least in my experience. I can’t remember seeing one before yet in the space of three days I’ve seen several of them in separate places.
I found the first one on our gravel road, one of its hind wings so badly damaged it couldn’t fly. Unlike many butterflies its distinctive markings made it easy to identify.
The one in the featured photo on this post was a lucky shot—it paused to feed just long enough for me to snap the shutter then it was off. The others I’ve seen have been on the wing, fluttering and flitting and seldom pausing.
Common? Perhaps. Uncommonly beautiful? For sure. 🙂
For several evenings we’ve been treated to a visit by two young bull moose. They are possibly last year’s calves, out on their own. Or maybe they’re just a couple of teenagers, hanging out together.
They were curious about our deck. One nibbled the edge but decided it wasn’t worth the bite. Then it was back to what they came for—tender willow leaves.
The bumps on their foreheads? This year’s antlers in the making. The skin, known as velvet, provides blood and nutrients to the growing bone beneath.
‘Tis the season! The time when a gazillion grains of pollen float, sift and drift through the air. (And allergy sufferers go into high gear buying Kleenex and antihistamines.)
The small red male cones in the featured photo are the source of this wonder (or misery, depending on your body’s reaction).
The spruce trees in our woods have unleashed a bumper crop of pollen this year. On one tree near the house there were so many red cones it looked like a Christmas tree on steroids.
Everything is covered with a fine yellow film. And I do mean everything. Check out the tiny whitish dots on this bearberry. Pollen.
Ditto on this wolf spider.
Note the pollen trapped on the deer hair snagged in barbwire.
And on this tiny wild plant.
And of course, when you turn on the windshield washer you can
really see those pollen grains. 🙂
We had about an inch of rain last Thursday. The next day the skies cleared and we emptied the water.
Yesterday I spotted something inside the gauge.
Looks like we have nearly a half inch of spider. 🙂
Despite our best efforts to camouflage our windows, a few birds continue to hit the glass. Reflections of the surrounding trees make it look like just part of the forest.
If the birds are lucky it’s only a glancing blow. Others succumb to the impact and die — which is what happened to this ruffed grouse.
We placed her body a few feet into the bush. Within hours all that remained was the feathers.
Who benefitted from her untimely end? Foxes live nearby so perhaps their hunt for a meal was easier today.
Amid a bed of moss
And leftover leaves
A promise …
One of the pluses of hanging laundry outside — besides that lovely clean small — is the surprises you find when you reel in your clothes.
Yesterday it was this wee jumping spider. She (he?) was sitting in the sun on top of a sheet. As I tried to gather her to safety she spun herself down on a delicate silk thread and landed on the deck.
These little guys personify cuteness. Even some folks who hate spiders grudgingly admit an interest in them.
Get up close to one (how could anything this small hurt the monster that is you?) and you’ll find them curious, turning to look at you and watching your movements.
The spider I found is not colourful — beige, blonde and black easily blend in with the wooded area where I found her.
If you want colour, check out peacock jumping spiders.
Australian Jurgen Otto has earned a wide following for his study of these psychedelically coloured arachnids — especially since he started adding music to their “dances”.
Take a peek at “
YMCA” or “ Stayin’ Alive” — bet you’re gonna fall in love with these guys. 🙂
Pelegrina flavipes ?