Meanwhile the Badgers July 29, 2016

After we dealt with the dead fawn, Casey noted the huge holes in my septic mound and actually saw a badger digging away.  Then my other neighbor Mike came by and echoed this observation, “You have badgers!” he exclaimed.  Good grief, what am I to do?  I like the idea of a whole tribe of American badgers living with me!  But on the other hand, what about the septic system?  This living in the country business certainly has its challenges, and boy, are they different from living in the city!

The Sad Fate of my Fawn July 29, 2016

Readers of my blog (are you out there anyone?) will know that I have been following the adventures of a pair of fawns.  I’ve come to know their mother, who has multiple indentations on her left ear.

Today was incredibly sad.  One of the fawns had been presumably hit by a car last week – according to my neighbors – and had a badly infected leg.  They called the Marin Humane Society who came out and said the fawn would either die, or possibly shed the damaged leg and somehow go on to live with only three.

At noon, I slid open the barn door of the studio and noticed animal scat, thinking it was odd, when then I saw the hoofs of a (probably) dead deer in the kitchen alcove.  I went across the street to talk with my neighbors, Casey, Maggie, and their daughter Lennon, who had told me about the fawn earlier in the week.  Pushing a wheelbarrow, Casey came over in his hazmat gear and gloves.  He carted the dead fawn, still in his spots, with a gnarled leg and a missing hoof, off to the corner of the lot and put him out for the vultures to feed on.  Maggie and 7-year old Lennon then arrived with flowers to lay beside him.  It was very sad, but I guess the way of nature, once we humans abuse our gentle friends with our cars. 

This morning I had seen the mother, without her young.  We regarded each other, as we always do, but now I attach special significance to her gaze – her longing for her lost fawn.  As a mother myself, I know that feeling, and if I see her tomorrow morning, I will be hard-pressed not to wrap my arms around her and grieve.

Tour de MALT July 24, 2016

Several years ago my friend Jeannette bought a nice bicycle but quickly thought better of actually riding it, so she generously passed it on to me, along with a new helmet, lock, and bike rack.  I too was intimidated by the serious cyclists out here, not to mention the threat of motorcyclists and cars on the weekends, and years went by before I started to ride it routinely. 

Now that I am living out here for the summer, I have reconnected with one of the great joys of my youth - the freedom I feel on a bicycle.  Lately I’ve been doing a one-hour route, starting from my house, down the shoulder-less Point Reyes-Petaluma road, along the smooth and shaded Platform Bridge and Bear Valley Roads, with the challenge of the Bolinas Ridge climb on Sir Francis Drake in between.

Thus emboldened, I suggested to my friend Yang and her husband Kevin that we add our wheels to the Tour de MALT, a fund-raising cycle through this agricultural landscape.  Yang and I signed up for the 40-mile loop, while Kevin for the 60, and yesterday morning, on a brilliantly sunny morning, we took off!

Starting in Nicasio, we soon passed Pi on Route 1, and Yang and I shed some clothes at the house as we went by.  I wouldn’t let her stop for her first treat at the Giacommini Ranch because we were hoping to complete the loop within four hours.  She was a good sport about it.

After passing Marshall, the MALT volunteers flagged us eastward onto the Marshall-Petaluma Road, and we suddenly found ourselves climbing a hill.  I learned only later that this section is referred to as the Marshall Wall.  I’m certainly glad that I didn’t know that ahead of time, as I may not have even signed up!

But we made it back to Nicasio, where I sought out a shady area to cool off in savasana with some ice cubes on my forehead.  An ice tea followed by a cold beer and a burger restored me, and I almost felt ready to do the circuit all over again.  Almost.

Teeny Tiny Quail July 8, 2016

Along Limantour Road today heading for the Muddy Hollow trailhead, a friend and I had to break for quail. On our the descent, a family with 15 or so – too many to count – impossibly small quail were making their way across the road, led by one adult and trailed by another.  They couldn’t have been more than one or two inches high, so small and so skittish that they appeared almost as flickers of light. 

As we started up again, we encountered another large quail family, again crossing with mother and father leading and trailing, but this time with slightly larger chicks who took wing. 

Two all-too-brief moments, and so lucky to bear witness.  

Turkey Trot June 29, 2016

I have lived here long enough that I should not be surprised by fauna, yet I am.  Just now on a quick drive to the market, I had barely turned onto the road when I had to break for a wild turkey mother and her three young on the asphalt.  Unlike the doe of a few weeks ago, this mama appeared to be paying close attention to her offspring, making sure that they would all make it across the road together – a sort of do or die situation.  Though I find the adult wild turkey to be a decided homely bird, the little ones appear quite cute, with grey feathers sticking out every which way.