Visitors

      Traditionally, how you stack up as a host determines your true worth in the world—good host, good man.  Being a good visitor also counts. 

     The first visitors are entirely uninvited and entirely unwelcome.  And I get a split decision as to my worthiness as host.  On the plus side, I provide a nice place and a nice meal.

 

 

 

 

     The visitors are, of course, deer who wreak havoc with young trees.  This year they went after the Ponderosas.  Other years they lust after the cedars or ash.

     On the minus side in the hosting business, if I were the king of the world, there would be a 24-7-366 days of the year open hunting season on deer.  And if they went extinct, good riddance.  I don’t care for venison, nor do they make good hood ornaments.  I’ve tried that, too, to the tune of $3K. 

      Raising trees makes one rethink the whole Bambi thing.  If I were to reread “The Yearling”, I’d feel a whole lot different when the father shoots the deer because he can’t build a fence high enough to keep it out of the garden.  Cheers!

     Now that that’s out of the way, let us see if I can redeem myself as host.  Here’s a totally surprise guest, particularly for our drought-stricken area:

 

 

The other bird is actually a duck who thinks this temporary puddle in the neighbor’s field a good place to nest. Unfortunately, by the time there are hatchlings, there won’t be any water.

     

     The big question, what is it?  An Ibis?  A stork or crane?  Sometimes seagulls pass through, feeding on grasshoppers and cut worms. But in 60+ years, I’ve never seen a bird like this.

     Anyway, welcome birds.  Make yourselves at home.

     And then there's a totally invited guest:

 

      Bella May, always ready to go, doesn’t want to be left behind.  How’s a dog to know that the back hatch of a sedan doesn’t lead to the passenger compartment as in an SUV?

     We are keeping her in food, water, and entirely engrossing entertainment—cottontails to chase.  What more can a guest ask for?  Truthfully, Bella would like fewer thunder claps.  So far that seems to be her only complaint.

    In the rabbit-chasing sport, so far it is Rabbits 24, Bella 1.  She had a little help from an unwitting human in that "one."

 

 

      The silly rabbit chose to hole up in the downspout trough.  To prevent further damage to the aluminum aqueduct, I emptied it of its contents.  I thought the rabbit was done for, but when I returned in the role of litter-bearer, the rabbit was gone.

    So Bella gets two for a take down and I get one for an assist.  Neither of us is in danger of a major-league contract with our hitting average. 

     It will take a little work to straighten out the drainage system, but it need attention anyway (lawn mower strikes have taken their toll).  Too bad that tree bark can’t be fixed as easily as aluminum gutters. 

     Maybe I would feel differently about deer.