An inquisitive old fart with a camera
General observations, generally during dog walks
A dead comedreja (possum) in an area on the side of the house fenced against dog entrance, except that Bandido the Shi Tzuh gets in through an opening I left for the cat (now long gone). The compost bins are on the other side of the fence, so what this one was doing here is a mystery, as is, once again, how it died. I don’t think the little dog would have done it in.
I cut open a squash, itself from a volunteer plant, to discover it starting all over again.
The next day, an equally enthusiastic onion.
Must be spring.
On the dog walk yesterday, there was suddenly a flurry of interest by the dogs, but no grabbing, chewing, or rolling. Just a fresh, disemboweled chicken carcass in the middle of nowhere. Syd thought I should show its location with a map photo, but no, trust me. Middle. Of. Nowhere.
Best guess is that it became a raptor feast.
…when you find a large dead seal on the beach?
Bark at it. Because of course.
Busy little ants harvesting acacia flowers, with a brief interruption from Jordan.
The other day I saw a hornero nest, broken, on the railing of a walkway through the dunes to the beach. You can see pieces on the ground. Probably broken by a human being of the juvenile variety, it begs a question: how could the hornero birds who built it think this was a good location?
Today I saw this: two hornero nests, side by side. Years ago I was told that horneros used to build their nests with the opening facing east for the morning sun, but with the increase in electromagnetic pollution, they had lost that sense of direction. I don’t know if it’s true, but the opening of the upper nest is pointing north.
When you come out in the morning and realize that *something* has been wandering around on your glass table.
Time has told. Despite the tree now posing no threat, they arrived early this morning to destroy it. Why, I asked. Because orders.
And so, just like that, the end of a tree that sprouted around 1936.
Our neighbor had requested the removal of a dry, dead tree for four years. Yesterday they showed up and removed it (was to the right, half the height of this one) then started cutting branches off this beast. I can’t remember how many times over the years that I heard of a storm approaching, and photographed this tree, expecting to see it on the ground the next day. It had two parrot nests. No parrots were harmed, but a few of them flew around afterwards, squawking loudly (as they always do anyway).
Now that the wind resistance is drastically reduced, the tree should be no threat. Does that mean they’re through with it? Time will tell.
Somebody who obviously doesn’t have a chainsaw has decided that the tree that fell six weeks ago is now their property. Couple days ago a woman, presumably from the house behind, was scrawling on them with a piece of charcoal NO TOCAR LA LEÑA.
Don’t touch the firewood. Long-dead pine that will probably burn like cardboard. OK lady, it’s a deal.