Pot Hole Farm is surrounded by a plethora of wildlife. Some we are aware of and can see in the open, others are hidden or only come out at night. During the day you can hear an assortment of bird songs echoing through the hills. You may get a glimpse of bright color as they fly from tree to tree or stop by the feeder for a snack. Each has their own distinct sound and if you listen closely you can pick them out individually…Robin, Bluebird, Cardinal, and Red Winged Black Bird to name a few. But if you allow the songs to blur together they form a new song, a beautiful chorus of sound that only nature can produce.
High in the sky you can see the hawk as it floats on the wind currents shrieking out a warning to the scurrying chipmunks and birds that its looking for a meal. You can hear the sharp chirp of the chipmunks as they scamper through the rocks and brush, their cheek pouches full of needed supplies. The lanky grey heron patiently waits by the creek for some minnows. As dusk turns the blue sky pink with the setting sun you might see a group of deer run down the hillside headed toward the lush pasture that lays on the other side of the gravel road. A wild turkey hen gobbles calling in her young. These are the wild creatures we can see, but there are others that are more inconspicuous and only visit in the cover of darkness.
The day is ending and PHF is settling down, but the night life is just beginning for others. The Whipper Will winds itself up, frantically repeating the same phrase as though its had too many cups of coffee. The frogs pile together down at the creekside for a bug and slime party, and a rowdy round of froggy karaoke. On rare occasions the eerie howl of coyotes bounces off the hills down into valley, sending cold shivers up your spine. The hoot owl up in a Sycamore tree hollers to its relative across the way.
In the morning if you take a stroll around the farm there is evidence of night time visitors. Down by the creek the tracks of a raccoon can be seen or those of an opossum. For two years we have had a marauder that empties the bird feeder and rips open the suet basket leaving it discarded on the ground. Evidence was never left behind except the broken feeders. We had suspects but never proof. Was it a fat raccoon? Could it actually have been a bear? Well the perp got sloppy last night and left a foot print. Detective that I am I was hot on the trail and took photos. Here is the evidence, you decide.