The most intolerable of all pests is that tormenting insect, the mosquito. The audacity of those fiends is beyond words. They often attack in swarms, and while we are batting one off our arm, another is darting for our forehead. They are difficult to swat, are lightning fast, and are tough little critters to demolish.Those long-legged skinny little rascals surely can make life miserable, especially of an evening when we would like to sit outside and rest in the cool air. I guess after all they teach us to be humble, and that for all our seeming we are nothing more than a meal for mosquitoes.
I suppose his
lop-sided position was natural for
him. The nuthatch scooted about in
that unnatural fashion intent on
his business, which apparently was
to catch any unwary insect who
happened to be in sight. His head
he kept continually down, and
indeed it seemed he never lifted
it to even look around. He moved
quickly about the tree upside-down
and every which way with as much
ease as creatures move about the
ground. After entertaining me with
his acrobatic circus performance,
he flew off to do his act on
another tree.
Down the tree head
first he came, the little white
breasted nuthatch. It looked for
all the world like he might fall.
creeping upside down on that tree,
but he seemed to keep his balance
quite well. It made me dizzy just
looking at the feats he performed
meandering about the trunk never
right side up. He made a little
whistling sound occasionally as if
to say he was not crazy and knew
what he was doing.
The land tortoise or turtle is not the fastest creature in the world. He lumbers along very slowly, but he generally gets where he is going anyway. The tortoise carries a waterproof shelter right on his back. He has his own private camping outfit in the form of his shell. His shell not only protects him from the weather, but it is also a fine protection from predators.The land tortiose is splotched with black and yellow on his shell, and those portions of his body which protrudes outside his shell, namely his head and feet. Usually he is found around streams or water holes, though he is prevalent on dry land almost anywhere as he is often observed in the woods breaking a path through the dry leaves.
Often he is found nestled in the tall grass of a field curled up in his shell asleep to the world. His shell is just perfect for getting away from it all, and of attaining the ideal in privacy. The tortoise leaves something to be desired as far as beauty goes, though I suppose that depends on the eyes of the beholder. The tortoise is well adapted to life as he has his own built-in armor to protect him.
I used to be fascinated by tortoises, especially the little ones, as little boy growing up on our farm. I sometimes would carry them home and watch them walk around our yard. Now in later years whenever I see a tortoise in the woods they bring to mind fond memories of my childhood.
Turtle Walk Turtle walk, turtle walk,
Let's all do the turtle walk.
It's going to be a fine day,
Let's all go out and play.Turtle walk, turtle walk,
Let's all do the turtle walk.
Sometmes I want to sing,
I'm so happy about everthing.Turtle walk, turtle walk,
Let's all do the turtle walk.
There's no use to worry,
Or to get in a great big hurry.
I can testify to
countless painful stings which
they have inflicted on me for no
good reason, without provocation,
and without warning. There is no
getting along with those
bad-tempered, ill natured
creatures. Somebody should do
something about wasps. They should
not be allowed to fly around free.
When a member of society shows
such a pronounced disregard for
the welfare and rights of others
they should be
incarcerated. They have the gall
to inhabit our houses, barns, and
sheds yet. Why don't they go into
the woods where they belong? It is
almost as if they enjoy tormenting
people. For their size they
exhibit tremendous courage, and in
fact reckless abandon, daring, and
bravado one cannot help but marvel
at somewhat. They actually appear
to look for trouble. Touchy, are
they touchy! Just walk in their
vicinity, and here they come
angry, and all set for a
fight. However even wasps have their place in the scheme of things, and have a right to exist. Their beneficial aspects far outweigh their annoying tendencies. After all they are just protecting their home, and I am the interloper and trespasser. Though I think they could be just a little less aggressive and belligerent.
I have a great deal
of malice toward wasps. I have
been stung by them too many times
not to hold some ill will. I think
of myself as a reasonably tolerant
person, but there is a limit.
Those wasps, the red tribe in
particular, have gone beyond that
limit. I declare war on all wasps.
For years now they have waged
unceasing warfare against me
haven't they?
In the course of a lifetime we are likely to encounter a skunk or two. The skunk is not by nature an aggressive creature. He is not given to rude behavior unless provoked. We do not often see a skunk, but generally discover where he has been. The skunk occasionally leaves his odoriferous trail plastered in the air, and for hours the telltale odor denotes his having passed by that way.That odor is difficult to describe. Though let it suffice to say it is perhaps the most obnoxious scent on earth. The skunk has two white stripes down his black back, and a gigantic bushy tail under which is stored his arsenal. That horrible scent is the skunk's only weapon, his only means of protecting himself from predators, and generally it is quite enough.
The skunk ambles along slowly, carefreely, seemingly daring us to try something. Commonly he walks right down the middle of the road forcing everyone else to give him the right of way, which they usually oblige. I recall encountering a skunk as a small boy walking to school down our country road early one morning. He was walking down the middle of the road toward me, and fortunately I had the common sense to step to the side of the road to let him pass by. He walked by and never even seemed to notice me. It is possible to get along with the skunk if we respect him.
Truly it was a notable
occurrence. My stopping to listen
was as worthwhile as anything else
in life. The odds are I will never
lay eyes on him, or he on me, but
I heard his voice, and thus I know
that he lives. That is better than
not knowing him at all. That is
better than nothing. That is
better than silence. The night
seemingly swallowed up him, sound
and all, as the silence reigned
supreme. To his refuge in the deep
woods he no doubt retired, or
perhaps he merely retired within
himself perched on his sturdy limb
reposed in the warmth of his
feathers from the chilled night
air as the stars twinkled
overhead.
"Hoot, hoot", says the owl, "Hoot, hoot," says the owl, "Hoot, hoot," says the owl,
In the cold
darkness of a winter night I heard
an owl hoot twice, only twice, and
then all was silent again. Out
there in the darkness a kindred
creature, a breathing, living
being existed, and he made his
existence known to me by two
distinct hoots. Was that not worth
noticing? What more significant
event could occur than one being
making his presence known to
another?
The moon is shining bright.
"Hoot, hoot," says the owl,
It is a beautiful night.
Everything is all right,
"Hoot, hoot," says the owl,
I love the starlight.
Won't you sing along with me?
"Hoot, hoot," says the owl,
It is good to be free.
