I was coming up the driveway after getting back from class, and I thought I saw something moving on the gravel near the edge. Got out and saw a small, irritable snapping turtle. Our tenant farmer put in an irrigation pump and pipeline this morning, and I imagine it upset the Denizens of the Deep (deep muck, that is) and the little guy had probably (and rather unnecessarily) decided to "abandon pond."

I rather foolishly believe that there is a certain balance that arises from the application of reasonable caution when combined with good animal karma, or whatever you want to call it when one has a good rapport with beasties. So I picked the little fucker up (as safely and carefully as one can) and put him in my car, on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

He thanked me by musking (Yeah. That.) on my floor mat. Of course I forgave him, since I am Very Big and he is Very Small, but oh, the STINK from something so tiny! Gah.

Anyway, I parked in front of the house, got a bin to put him in, and took him down to the front irrigation pond to let him go.

On my way to the water's edge, I saw movement to my right.

And there she was.




( Gratuitous leech photo behind the cut. )

I have been incorporated into a nest.

Well--bits of me have, anyway. When I walked Autumn this morning, the bluebirds who have claimed one of the three nest boxes decided that either A.) I was venturing FAR too close to their territory, or B.) my hair (which was flying around in the breeze) looked rather tasty. (Or perhaps it just looked like a bird's nest. :P ) Either way, I was thoroughly dive-bombed by one of the pair. Each time she dove for my head, she let out a loud, indignant *CHIRP!* The third time was the charm, however, and she flew directly back to her nest box with a few pieces of my hair in her little claws.

Yes, it hurt. No, I'm not particularly upset about it. I expect this behavior from the barn swallows, seeing as how they're fantastically human-tolerant unless they have newly-hatched young to protect. THAT'S when they dive-bomb us. The other times, they're not intending to threaten us--they're swooping at the bugs we stir up when we mow the lawn, or walk through high grass. Bluebirds are swallows, so I wasn't shocked to have them coming so close. Can't say as I'm surprised they may have associated me with food, either. My mother has been putting out little trays of meal worms and a special mix of suet to encourage them to use that specific nest box, as it is one she can easily see from the house with the binoculars.

All I can say is that I hope these particular bluebirds have no magical inclinations, lest they use my hair to bind me to their nest as its unwitting guardian. Next thing I know I'll be standing by the birdhouse with a thwarted blacksnake in my hand and no idea how I got there.

Good grief.

I stepped outside with the dog this morning to find that god had puked Disney all over the place. Rounds of robins hopping across the grass hunting worms who pop up, whack-a-mole style, and disappear again with a jaunty tip of their little hats. Maddening din of birdsong, freshly-wakened groundhogs galumphing in the field munching the last of the turnips, daffodils and narcissi crowding the fences and edging the walls, crocuses polkadotting the greening expanse of lawn, and masses of ladybugs and boxelders swarming wherever there's a sunny windowsill. I expect there are even some frolicking deer and baby bunnies, by now.

And yet, in the midst of this sunny, sappy Disneygasm, I can already sense the first hints of tree spooge in the air. I feel it in my very sinuses. Bah. Bah, I say.

Armed only with a pair of colanders, kit_kallisti and I walked out to the blackberry hedge when I got home from work last night. After about a half-hour of briar-dodging, we'd collected about a full collander of heirloom blackberries. (Around 6 cups.)




I'd seen them coloring up last weekend, and I figured that there were probably enough ripe berries to make grandmom's cobbler, by now....




Or maybe a couple square casserole dishes of Blackberry Crumble. I imagine that the yield will double by next weekend, so there's really no rush. I think I'll make the crumble tonight and another one tomorrow, after TBD and I get back from dinner. I still need to pick up a little carton of cream before then, but as for tonight, kit_kallisti is going to stop at the grocery store on her way home so that we will be able to have our blackberry crumble the way nature intended--warm from the oven and topped with melting vanilla ice cream.

(Also need to make another pitcher of lemonade, and reserve a lemon's worth of juice for the crumbles.)

Here's a little garter snake with his head in a hole. He came up with a big, fat grub in his mouth.



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I woke up the other day to the raucous sounds of irate mockingbirds and wrens. Despite their tininess, nothing--but *nothing*--does irate like a wren. I followed the sounds of pisstivity and there, just on the other side of the driveway, was this large blacksnake full of small eggs.

( Two more behind this cut. )

yffy came over this afternoon accompanied by a large, angry snapping turtle. Despite her (probably maternally-motivated) choice of a schoolyard as a great place to lay her eggs, our pond (while not in the best school district), is just a *bit* more suitable. We released her at the edge and watched her being angry. I took this pic a couple seconds after she turned away from the water to menace us.



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She was very grumpy.