New Neighbors

The new neighbors were very curious about the camera.

After nearly six weeks of staying in other people’s houses I arrived home on Monday to find I have new neighbors. Lots of them.

After the fiasco with the bulls in 2011 (another story) we had no cattle on the property last year.

This year a different strategy is in play. Instead of hosting multiple bulls we have one bull and about a dozen cows.

The ladies are all curious but rather shy. The bull gave me the hairy eyeball — the warning look. As I am well aware of how easy it would be for him to plow through the barbed-wire fence I did not push my luck.

It was definitely entertaining to see them all line up to look at me and then start jostling for position. They have no decorum at all. They just shove each other around. I guess that’s ok in their society since they also scratch their itches on each other (and the trees, the fence, and anything else they can find).

Curious girls

These neighbors are only with us for the spring, after which they will return to their owner down the hill. In the meantime they will keep the tall grass mowed down for us.  This is very helpful as cool, rainy nights followed by warm days are causing the wild grasses and weeds to multiply very quickly. The ticks are already abundant, and before long we’ll have to watch our step because the rattlesnakes will be back.

The cattle aren’t my only new neighbors. A sure sign that we are finally done with winter is the return of the Kildeer. I saw a pair of them running in the driveway the day I came home. Then I noticed two of them hanging out between my house and the barn. I thought that was odd because in the 4 years I’ve lived there these little birds have always chosen a more central spot on the property to nest.

Mama Kildeer sitting on her nest

Day before yesterday I was out back with the dogs when one of the birds darted off down the hillside, and the other ran a few yards the other direction. It hunkered down, fanned it’s tail feathers, and did the butt dance at me while crying “Dee Dee, Dee Dee, Dee…” That’s when I knew for sure that there was a nest nearby.

Kildeer nest in the gravel because it is perfect camouflage for their eggs which are grey with black speckles. But in our world with many vehicles, animals, and equipment it is a bit treacherous. My landlady and I always try to spot them early so we can set up a bit of a barricade to prevent them being squashed. We can’t do anything about natural predators but we can at least keep them safe from our human existence.

I always get a chuckle out of the dance they do to distract intruders from the nest. I realize their goal is to lead us (and any other predators) away from the eggs but I just don’t see fanning the feathers and doing a dance as being a strong defense mechanism.

In a few weeks the babies will arrive and that will provide a whole new level of entertainment because they are born with all their feathers, but don’t fly for several weeks. They will run willy-nilly around the property with their tiny little bodies on very long legs. It is clearly a lot of work for the parents to keep them all in a group. There are usually four babies, and three will stick together while the fourth has to be constantly corralled. It is fascinating to watch the adults work together to keep them all safe. The current nest only has three eggs in it. Maybe that will be a bit easier for Mom and Pop.

The cattle and the Kildeer aren’t the only new neighbors. As I sat on my front stoop Friday evening I noticed a flock of birds gliding and swooping over the pasture. They were so synchronized that on a hunch I stepped into the barn, and sure enough the Swallows have returned. That realization lifted my heart. There are only about 20 of them so far, but if this year is like years past we will have about 200 before the babies start to come.

As much as I want to travel to far away places this week really made me pause and appreciate the beauty of my present location. Being away from home for six weeks didn’t hurt either. It made me look at where I live with new eyes. That is a gift.

The setting sun from my front porch – April 2013