Raspberry Breakfast

She looked at ease in the garden, as if she belonged there, relishing her raspberry breakfast...

...checking to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

The small raised garden is west of the house, just a few yards below the deck off the kitchen. 

Don built it years ago out of railroad ties, and over time, it has had many productive seasons. 

This isn't one of them. At least, not for us.

Seeing a deer in the garden was not a surprise, but it seemed rather bold of her to be there in broad daylight.

I stepped out on the deck, and she paused mid-bite and looked up at me, as if to say,

"Just whose garden do you think this is, anyway?"

You know, she might have had a point, which raises the age old question:

Does a garden belong to the one who plants it,

or the one who harvests it?

Linking with Saturday's Critters

King of the Forest

This little fawn, with a glint in his eye, is a feisty one.

He came out with his mother this week, late in the evening. 

There was a short stand-off with a turkey, until the turkey stood his ground...

and the fawn scampered away.

When the doe was tired of babysitting, she gave the fawn a kick, 

and the little one responded by kicking back, and almost climbing on his mother's back. 

The turkeys were polite enough to pretend not to notice.

                                      

We'll be watching this one.

One of these days, we expect, he'll be ruling the forest.


Linking with Saturday's Critters

Trail Cam

On a foggy morning last month, we tried out our new Browning Strike Force Trail Cam.  

 

The camera has infrared, which seemed to intrigue the deer.

 

They were mesmerized, like kids watching Saturday morning cartoons... 

...until the breakfast bell rang.

My attention was elsewhere.

 Don's office was between secretaries, so I've been acting as the temp. 

Good thing somebody was taking pictures at our house.

It's good to be back.

Linking with Saturday's Critters

Midwinter Freeze

On a recent morning before the freeze, 

a yellow-shafted flicker was hard at work punching holes in our yard, 

the red heart on the back of his neck pumping in rapid fire motion 

with every thrust of his beak.

If he was looking for a fat grub for breakfast,

he didn't come up with one while I was watching.  

It wasn't for lack of trying.

In this 10 second video, he strikes the ground about 30 times.

A couple of days later, the cold came, and the ground, hard as stone, locked up its treasures.

Deer, dressed in their winter coats, dug through the snow for food...

and made way when the Prince of the Forest appeared.

Birds fluffed out their down coats to obtain the highest possible insulation.

Steam rolled in from the lake at the Theodosia Marina...

turning every surface into a confectioner's masterpiece.




He supplies snow like wool, scattering frost like ashes.
Psalm 147:16





Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
Saturday's Critters

Hunger

Click on any photo for a larger view.

After waiting 'til March last winter for a decent snow,

we got an early start this year.

Sleet came down most of the day Thursday,

covering the ground with tiny styrofoam like pellets,

and Friday's snow piled on top.

When the thermometer headed down, 

we found our appetites sitting on the high side of the teeter-totter.  

We weren't alone.  

The corn and sunflower seeds we feed the creatures 

disappeared almost as fast as we could toss them out.

Blue jays wore their heads on backwards...

and Cardinals perched near the feeders like Christmas ornaments,

waiting for their number to come up.

Fox sparrows thought nothing of the cold, knocking the snow out of their way with swift kicks.

The crows were emboldened to come close to feed, even perching on the deck.

Barley's appetite stays at its peak year round...

but his energy soars when the snow comes.

While all the creatures outdoors have voracious appetites,

so do we.

Pass the popcorn, please.





Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
and Saturday's Critters

Morning Gold

There's something magical about a summer morning

just after the whip-poor-will has silenced its strident song

and before the glowing sun has appeared over the hill. 

It's then that we see some of the more reclusive creatures that inhabit our forest,
 like the bobcat that appeared recently.  

Yesterday, at first light, a family of raccoons scrambled down one tree 

and up another, four small masked fluff balls following a larger one, 

their striped tails broadcasting their identity.

It's only early in the morning that we see the big bucks; 

they visit occasionally,
and long before the sun comes up they melt back into the woods.

The Italians have a phrase, "Il mattino ha l'oro in bocca" 

which corresponds loosely to our adage "the early bird gets the worm".  

Literally, it translates, "the morning has gold in its mouth".

I like that thought, and I think it's true.

There's another thing that's golden about the morning.

The ancient Jewish prophet Jeremiah wrote,

"The faithful love of the Lord never ends!

His mercies never cease.

Great is His faithfulness;

His mercies begin afresh each morning."

As long ago as those words were written,
they are just as true today,
just as they always will be.




Linking with Camera Critters
and Weekly Top Shot

Watching

At my desk this morning, a movement to the right attracted my attention.  On the window ledge, a chipmunk peered at me from the other side of the window, and seemed startled to see me.  They have been underground most of the winter, but they couldn't resist coming out on such a fine day as this.

Later, from the entrance to the chipmunk's den, a toad peeked out from under sleepy eyelids. Life is full of surprises.

About ten deer frequent our place (with additional visitors on occasion).  We watch them from our windows, and we almost feel like they're part of our extended family.

This buck has recently shed his antlers, and in so doing, left a little of his majesty laying on the forest floor.

This morning he scratches, beset by an unseen foe.

One of the yearling bucks, seen here with his mother, showed up with a damaged leg early last week.  He wouldn't put any weight on it at all, and we hoped it wasn't broken.  He stayed close to his mother, who fought off the other deer that tried to crowd in while he was eating.  As of yesterday, it looks like he's improving.

It's always hard to see an animal suffer, and as beautiful as it is here, there are frequent such reminders that this isn't paradise yet.  We watch for the day when the Lord Jesus will make everything new, where

There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain,

for the old order of things has passed away.

Revelation 21:4

His invitation is extended to everyone:

To him who is thirsty,

I will give to drink from the spring of the water of life.

Revelation 21:6

In the meantime, we watch, and we're not the only ones.  Eagles leave here this time of year, and the other day, as we were eating lunch, a mature bald eagle soared in our direction on strong, swift wings, and sailed directly over the house, as if to say, "I've been watching you. I'll be back."

Linking with Rurality Blog Hop

and  Camera Critters

Wary Visitors

When winter parcels out its light, deer appear at the fringes of the day. 

The sun's first rays warm their thick coats and turn their whiskers into strands of light.  

They browse nervously, snapping to attention at every hint of danger. 

One false sound, and, tails up, they flee to the cover of the woods. 

They come again at evening; 

their shadows lengthen and spread into the darkness that gives them shelter.




In His hand is the life of every creature
and the breath of all mankind.
Job 12:10

Linking with
Rurality Blog Hop

Ozark Velvet

 A group of deer frequent our surroundings,

 and we sometimes think of them as our herd, 

but they watch us too, and probably think of us as their people.

We never tire of seeing the little ones,

 those inquisitive fawns...

 as they get acquainted with their neighbors...

and trot off obediently behind their mothers.

The big bucks, we see them rarely.

With new velvet, their antlers are tender,

and they are, for the most part, nocturnal.

A group of them came through our field a few days ago,

before full light.

They didn't stay long, 

and they seemed aware of the stir they were causing among the does and fawns.

This young fork horn buck still eats with his sister.

He watched the parade of large bucks,

and he dreams of the day he can run with the big boys.

Linking with Photo Art Friday,
 Camera Critters,
and Your Sunday Best

First Rain

Wind kicked up Saturday just after deer had come out into the field,

and then the rain started, softly at first, then gaining momentum.

The deer stood in the open, absorbing every drop, 

until the sky exploded with light and sound, and water came down in hard stripes, 

sending them into the cover of the woods. 

When the storm abated, a fawn ventured out with its mother,

wonder-struck at the fireworks and the water still falling from the sky,

the cool fresh air and the smell of wet earth.

And then it ran; 

it ran for the joy of being alive and being young and fast

and feeling soft wet ground underfoot for the first time in its short life.

It ran like lightning,

flashing by the field in broad circles.

The others watched and remembered,

and then a doe and a young buck joined the romp,

all three chasing the wind, fueled by the rain.

It was over in a few minutes.

Sunday morning was quiet;
moisture hung low over the hills, swelled the pond, straightened bent flowers

and ended the drought.




God's voice thunders in marvelous ways;

He does great things beyond our understanding.

He says to... the rain shower, "Be a mighty downpour".

So that everyone He has made may know His work,

He stops all people from their labor.

  The animals take cover...


Job 37:5-8





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and Camera Critters