Living on the Wild Side

I inherited the acreage on which we built our home. It is wooded and in a rural area. We’ve contended with foxes eating the fruit which falls to the ground, squirrels robbing the plum and apple trees, crows taking lunch breaks in the compost pile, rabbits and deer munching the cabbages and beans, raccoons rifling the corn, moles devouring potatoes and skunks upturning garbage cans.

Now that we’re much older we’ve become unable to plow and tend a garden, and one would think we’d have had our fill of wild things invading our territory. We’ve fought the good fight, but not only have we lost the battle, we’ve joined the invaders.

We began scattering feed across the dam, on the far side of the pond, to aid in the procreation of wild turkeys, which come for water. We throw feed onto our patio for the doves and small birds in cold weather. During the warmer times, we keep several sugar-water bottles available for the hummingbirds. They return each year and wait on the back porch railing for us to come out with the first feeding of their arrival.

One morning we arose to find a Peregrine Falcon sitting, not three feet from our back door; perched on the railing. I told my husband, since this behavior was so unusual, we must not encourage it to stay. It was undoubtedly sick and may be dangerous to our health. We kept indoors and debated what to do.

He finally suggested we go and place a bit of meat on the edge of the Barbeque grill; getting nowhere near the bird. So, as my husband went outside, the hawk flew off, only to return once my husband had gotten back inside. The bird then flew across the porch and gobbled the small chunk of balogna.

We watched as it would try to capture the sparrows which were feeding on the patio. We placed more meat on the grill but he didn’t return to that area. Instead, he came to the other back porch, outside the dining room, and sat there on the railing.

Next morning, he was gone. We later spied him lying on the patio just off the porch. I went outside and lifted the, now stiff, bird. To my horror he was weightless. He had starved to death. When I turned him over, I saw why. He’d been blinded in one eye and lost his perception. He could not accurately determine his prey.

In sorrow, we buried him.

Then, just a few years ago, during a particularly long period of freezing weather a Cooper’s hawk lit in the leafless oak just beyond the patio. We knew he was eyeing the smaller birds feeding there. We quickly thawed some chicken pieces from our freezer and cut them into smaller, more manageable chunks.

We placed a couple of pieces on the top of the rail where our clothes line was fastened. We had the bluebird suet feeder attached to the other end of the same rail. Before I could get back in the house, the hawk had swooped to get his first piece of chicken and returned to a low limb in the oak. The bluebirds kept to the honey locust whenever the hawk was near, but they never seemed to fear the fact that their food supply was within two feet of where the hawks came. We soon discovered we were feeding a pair of them and decided to call them Vic and Maude, after my father and mother, who were great lovers of wildlife.

The hawks came only when they were having trouble finding their own wild game. We were privileged to see them in the early spring feeding their young in a high nest in distant hardwoods. That fall, only one returned. However, he brought his children and they relied on our offerings during the coldest temperatures.

Each winter, we look forward to see who will be coming. This time, we’re blessed to have a new pair, but we still refer to them as Vic and Maude. Just this morning, coming out of my bedroom, I heard the high scream coming from the oak. I quickly hurried to the dining room, which has French doors leading outside. I saw him, high up and still ‘calling’. As fast as I could, I thawed a small pack of chicken gizzards and within five minutes I was outside placing the meat on top of the rail. As I withdrew my hand, I saw him push off the limb and head straight for it. I stood very still as he swooped just over my head, and with pin point accuracy, lifted his breakfast. What a thrill! I finished placing the rest of the food and was coming back toward the house when I turned and saw Maude land on the rail and remain there as she held the meat with her talons and picked off beaksful. Soon, Vic was beside her and they finished off the meal together.

Back in my kitchen I was entertained to watch a very brave mocking bird flying around and pecking at the two hawks. They were completely unbothered by the mockers’ attempts to drive them away. After a few minutes, the frustrated mocker gave up and left.

We’ve been so blessed to live where we can freely interact with the wild life here. We’ve aged to the point that we even tolerate the field rats and squirrels who brave the open lawn to come to the patio for their turn at the table.

God provides the grandest entertainment of all - right in our own back yard.