Last night, and then this morning, I heard extended high-pitched shrieks coming from the back of my woodland acre.
Theories:
1.) Rabbits being seized, killed.
2.) Fox kits? I think they’re being born about now. We have gray and orange foxes.
3.) Coyotes?
With everything in bloom, and with birds everywhere, I take lots of walks every day around my woods and garden.
On a hidden path lined with vinca I stopped a moment ago to study an eastern box turtle, quite motionless, head extended.
The white flowers on our azalea bushes are popping out; they’re a calm counterpoint to the harlequin madness across the street, where our neighbors exhibit massive mixed azaleas in a ring around their house and in a path to their door. UD‘s friend Al Teich took a picture a few seasons ago.
Our white flowering dogwood got absolutely hammered in the big snowstorms this year – we had to pull down dead branches. Yet it’s glamorous again already.
More glamorous. The thinning made it delicate, Japanese.
Major infestation of rabbits, natch, and they’re eating my hostas. One of them hops across my front yard as I write this. Fuck the Easter Bunny.