Quails & Masks

The porcupine is still alive and kicking, its tracks are in the usual spots on the land. It picked a new pine tree to spend the night feeding in this Winter, very much in the same area as last year’s. Definitely a creature of habit, it’s been living in the same house, following the same habits for as long as we started paying attention 5 years ago.

We set the trail cam at the entrance of the collapsed barn where it lives.

 

The poor fellow wasn’t expecting my deep track on its usual path and stumbled into it 🙂

 

5 minutes later… Really cool animals.

Counter Measures

The fauna has taken a huge bite out of our work this year. A woodchuck ate the garden, crows ravaged the blueberry plants, deer went after young fruit trees & currants, finally a racoon simply killed all the keets and didn’t even eat them. One animal after another has gone after our work and voided much of it, this is the first year this happens to such a scale and it is making us feel besieged.

It’s interesting just how much brutal competition there is in nature. I used to think of nature as an idealized garden of Eden, but it’s closer to a ruthless competition which often ends in death. I despise man’s expansionist dominance over nature, yet living closer to nature means participating in the competition. Hawks circles over our baby, ticks & mosquitoes suck our blood, raccoons take out our flocks, deer reap the fruits of our sweat. I’m fine with letting nature get its share but nature is perfectly fine taking it all. I don’t enjoy exerting human dominance but I can’t let that go, it’s time to be more aggressive.

 

Intel gathering

 

The little fuckers parade around the chicken coop like they own the place

 

Unfortunately not at a set time at which I could throw them a little welcome party

 

A trap does stay up all night, notice to pull string in case the skunk gets in there

 

Well at least I caught something with the box the trap came in

 

Super scary scarecrow

 

The trees are now in prison until they have more mass