Critter Love...

My husband and I were fortunate enough to buy a charming house on nearly 1/4 acre in Lancaster about one week before the Big Snowfall that caused time to stand gloriously still last December. Most of this land is in the back yard, a sort of truncated pie slice, with the house pretty far forward. One of the best features about this house and this yard is that there are six full grown fruitless Mulberry trees on the property, one in front, five in back.

Well, the trees and the pool, which is so new we were the first ones to use it.

Oh, and the spa. Perfect for starry nights.

And the huge shed... Jim loves that.

getting off topic...

The result of all this land and trees and pool and shed is that we share space with a multitude of critters.

We have a trillion birds. Doves sitting in stolen nests that are far too small for their rather large bodies in most of the trees. Hummingbirds that take long sips of dessert from the feeder in the tree closest to the house in between snatching gnats out of the air about a foot off the ground every morning. Sparrows that flock and twitter all day - one couple nested in our eaves and, unfortunately, we had to hold a funeral for one of their babies which fell 30 feet to its death right at my feet... so sad! Black birds with yellow eyes, mockingbirds with their long tails and dramatic white flashes under their wings (reminds me of the one I saved many years ago - that story is for another time). Robins, huge and with their legendary rosy breasts, that really seem to enjoy the insect smorgasboard of bugs our grass offers in the afternoons (they also like to tease our dog, who hasn't been able to gift me with one, much to her chagrin, I am sure). And a myriad of others I cannot name but nonetheless enjoy.

We have a squirrel who lives under out shed and comes out early in the morning to gambol across the side fence and manages to dash back under the shed right before the sprinklers come on every day. I have named him Henry.

Insect galore. Billions of gnats. Wasps (we did get rid of all of their nests in the eaves... did I say "we"??? Jim did it. I stayed inside and watched through the glass. Ick. Hate wasps!). Dragonflies, orange ones mostly, although they are so fast that I can never tell if there is only one with supersonic speed or several that just stay out of sight and play "Tag - Let's freak out the human floating peacefully in the pool").

Butterflies... Sob. I feel so bad. I was throwing a large rope toy for our Golden Retriever across the grass - huge yard, remember??? - and hit one of the trees and a large gold and black Monarch butterfly tumbled helter skelter out of the tree. What are the odds??? Out of SIX trees I hit the ONE with a butterfly attached... no, I just don't hit the tree, I hit the exact BRANCH this beautiful butterfly is resting on and knocked him out of the tree!!! I dashed over, unbelieving, and saw him, his wings folded shut and gently scooped him up, cradling his broken wings and trying to keep our dog from making a rather small but crunchy meal out of him. I felt the barest scrabbling against my palm, peeked into my cupped hand and his wings fluttered. He wasn't dead! I exultantly but slowly walked across the yard and gingerly placed him on the chain link dog run fence, out of reach of the dog, and stood back, willing to give him some peace. Well, mostly for that, I also wanted to run in and get my camera to take pictures since he was practically tame (some might say... crippled). I snapped off several shots as he valiantly managed to get his rather large wings through the hole of the chain link. I imagine he was trying to get as far away from the monster who broke his wing as quickly as possible... but in butterfly world, that just isn't very fast. I was able to take a bunch of photos and eventually got bored (how callous am I???) and went back inside. A little later I went out to check on him and he was gone. I really hope he was able to fly and flutter away... and wasn't some bird's mid-morning snack. *shudder*

Anyway, back to the critter list (those of you who know me, know what's coming next...)

FROGS! Frogs in our pool! Itty bitty frogs about an inch long to great big six inchers. For a while in early summer I was fishing 3-6 frogs a day out of the pool. I mean all that chlorine can't be good for them. I imagine they have to lotion each other up after a foray into the water... (FROGGER LOTION... FEWER WARTS! LESS SLIME!)Besides, once they get in, it seemed like it was impossible for them to get out. They are actually California Toads, but since all toads are frogs (but not all frogs are toads), and I like the sounds for the word FROG better - it's cuter than TOAD, I am still going to call them my frogs, so stop giving me grief about it, okay?? (You know who you are!)

And then, also attracted to our pool, BATS! Well, one bat. A huge swooping creature falling from the sky and gone so fast it is hard to process the reality of it. I had seen it a couple of times, including on July 4th when son Michael and I were dangling our feet in the water and playing with sparklers. I thought, "Cool! Bats are just creepy enough to be awesome!" Husband Jim, on the other hand, had a different reaction. Although maybe if his introduction to our bat friend, whom I call Flutter, had been less... dramatic, he may have been a little less... freaked. This is how it happened: we were enjoying one of the Antelope Valley's famous glorious summer nights floating in the pool, just talking and watching the stars come out. The breeze was balmy, the sky clear, the nightfall noises muffled, we were both very relaxed, each with a glass of spirits (me with my glass of wine, and Jim had a beer) when this huge black creature SWOOPED down to the water level within a foot of Jim's head and dashed out of sight. Jim yelped and jumped three feet out of the lounger, beer forgotten, legs flailing, arms waving, hands slapping at his head, "WHAT THE %&$# WAS THAT??????" In between fits of laughing at his discomfiture - am I a bad wife? - I explained that it was probably our bat and he totally freaked out. He marched out of the pool (literally walking on water, so great was his resolve) and flung himself inside the house. I stayed where I was. I like the bat. He is certainly startling, but, like I said before, kinda cool in a creepy/awesome way. I also knew what Jim was doing... he was looking up how to get rid of bats on the web. After about a half an hour outside by myself, batless, lonely and my wine glass sadly empty, I went inside. Jim was looking dejected. "Bats eat up to 1000 mosquitoes a night," he said, staring at the laptop, his face bathed in blue light. "I guess it's a good thing."

But he never went outside in the pool without lighting one of the tiki torches to scare Flutter away for the rest of the season. I haven't seen him since.

There you have it. A fairly comprehensive list of the critters with whom we share our little slice of the earth. Oh, and if you see Flutter, tell him all is forgiven and to come home. I miss him!