The Suet Thief

Not even a month into Project FeederWatch, and critters are already getting on my nerves! Not the birds, of course. They’re what the project’s all about. From November to April I count the avian visitors to my backyard habitat and record the results on the FeederWatch website. (By the way, this is the first year I’ve included a birdbath. I’ve also leveled up my shrubbery selection. Exciting times ahead!!!!)

I know. Went a little overboard with the stones.

I’ve also decided to go more suet-heavy, for a number of reasons. One, there’s a pine tree nearby that a lot of woodpeckers, nuthatches, and birds like that hang out, and I know for a fact that woodpeckers are really big suet fans. And two, I wouldn’t have to worry about squirrels shoveling out handfuls of suet and spilling it all over the place like they do with the seed at my other feeders.

So anyway, my suet cage had been empty for a few days, so yesterday I went and got some no-melt suet dough since the weather’s been kind of warm. I figured that way the suet would last longer. Well, okay. So I go to bed last night with the block of suet still there (a slow day in the habitat), and this morning I wake up to find the cage flipped up over the fence.

Empty.

But here’s the thing. It wasn’t opened, and the wire I’d wrapped around the top for extra security…was still wrapped around the top!

So what in the world got to the suet and gobbled it up that fast with the cage still closed? I can’t image a bird—or even a couple of birds—pecking it clean in one night. And besides, weren't they sleeping? Okay, not owls, but I’m not sure they’re suet eaters. Plus, their flat faces and short beaks aren’t great for getting at stuff in small cages. No, I’m thinking more mammalian.

Squirrels would be my first guess, but they’re not your typical creatures of the night. Now raccoons—sure, they’ve got those creepy people-fingers that could easily reach in and scoop out all that suet. Never once have I seen a raccoon in my yard, but I guess it doesn’t mean they don’t visit. It was a full block of suet, and pretty thick, so I’d have to assume two of them did the raiding. Also, bears aren’t completely unknown in these parts, but if a bear had been the culprit I would’ve woken up to much more than a suet cage flung over the fence (if the fence was even still standing).

Of course, as is the case for bigfoot and most other mysterious sightings you hear about, I didn’t get any video. My excuse? Well, I'd taken my low-rent security camera down when I was rearranging some stuff a while back and never got around to re-installing it. The night vision is pretty poor, but I might’ve gotten something. It’s back up now, so next time the creature pulls off something like this again, I’ll get to expose him or her for the thief they are.

Let’s just hope it’s not a weird neighbor.

*Note added on 2/14/2022: The night vision doesn't work on my camera, but from all the evidence I've collected, I'm pretty sure it's squirrels working together.

Dogwood and Holly (Spring Fling 2021)

GIF courtesy of Giphy

Below is my GIF-inspired entry for the 2021 Spring Fling Kidlit Contest, clocking in at just under 150 words. A big thanks to Kaitlyn Sanchez and Ciara O'Neal for hosting again!

Dogwood and Holly

Dogwood smiled at the last lump of snow melting in the yard.

“Soon I’ll be the best dressed tree on Woodley Street,” he said, proud of his budding branches. “You other trees only wish you could bloom as beautifully as I do.”

“No thanks,” Holly said from the other side of the flower patch. “I prefer my luscious leaves that stay green all year. In winter you’re a scraggly mess!”

Dogwood scoffed. “At least I don’t have prickly edges!”

Holly gasped. “Well, at least my bark doesn’t look like alligator skin!”

The trees hushed as a boy and his grandmother stopped by the yard.

“Ooo, they’re my favorite!” the boy said, pointing down. “I love their purple color!” Then he walked on without saying a word about the trees.

The little crocuses in the flower patch looked up at Dogwood and Holly, waved their purple petals, and giggled.

Words to End, Words to Begin...

Bodie Island Lighthouse, Outer Banks, NC

If you’re reading this, I can assume you’ve made it to the end of 2020. Congrats! (Although maybe I should hold off. Who knows what 2021 will bring?) In any case, I figure I’d add to all the reflections, predictions, and inspirational thoughts that proliferate with yeast-like intensity this time of year. And now it’s literally just dawned on me: Aren’t we also entering a new decade?

Anyway, I won’t sink too deeply into the sentimental because I’m not the type. But I’d like to tell you about a little road trip I took, and end with a poem inspired by it. The poem is where I get all pensive and introspective, so feel free to scroll down if that’s more your thing.

So the trip. It was three days that passed like a millisecond, which is one of the reasons I wanted to immortalize it in BlogLand. Our plan was to visit the Outer Banks of North Carolina, with a few stops/excursions to the “Inner Banks.” One of my fondest memories will be our detour to historic Edenton—a charming little city on the Albemarle Sound.

We were only in Edenton about an hour, first visiting the Penelope Barker House Welcome Center, which doubles as a museum. It was there where I bought my only souvenir of the trip—a book journaling a local man’s observations of birds visiting his large property (From Hawks to Hummingbirds, by Paris Trail). I started reading it during the trip and it immediately brought a smile to my face. Then there was the “Women of Distinction” exhibit, where I read about Josephine Napoleon Leary, a freed slave turned real estate mogul. At another exhibit, a friendly older gentleman gave me the backstory of a vintage trunk of items on display, one that had been hidden in the shadows of an attic in town. He was particularly excited to inform me that the trunk had a fold-out ironing board!

Pictured below are the Leary exhibit, one of her buildings, and the mysterious trunk of items.

Afterwards Klaus and I strolled the historic neighborhoods, said hi to friendly people, and checked out real estate listings displayed in a storefront window. Oh, and would you believe there was a Sears appliance store sandwiched between the charming little shops on Main Street? As a child of the seventies/eighties, I felt like I’d stepped back in time.

I won’t bore you with the details from the rest of the trip, even though it wasn’t boring at all. Here, let me just sum it up: Dunes, crashing waves, lighthouses, long drives, more charming places (Manteo on Roanoke Island, for instance), casual beach dining, pelicans, sea oats, live oaks, and wax myrtles.

Okay, so now here’s the poem I came up with today, which will double as the more reflective part of the post. Happy New Year, and God bless!

Untitled (for now)

I stand against it, this wind

that makes waves thunder,

flags and banners flap.

A seagull hovers inches over

the shoreline, a feather-like

descent, letting the wind

decide when it touches down.

A pelican leading its flock slams

invisible brakes, turns, and

the others follow like a school

of fish guided by the current.

Perhaps the gull and pelican

are onto something.

Instead of fighting the wind,

maybe I should yield to its

spirit force—His Spirit—

and discover where It leads.