Contact us at: whispernthunder1@gmail.comNight Moves
~ Orannhawk
In a recent post, I spoke about the sacredness of
the land that I hold in trust. My kids are clearing
out some of the mesquites, and will be planting
specific areas for wild forage, along with local
native grasses. It’s a vision that I have held close
for years, without the chain stripping of the natural
grasses and trees that occurred some years ago,
without my knowledge or consent.
The kids have installed multiple trail cams and feeders throughout the property, and feeding will continue year-round. My favorite spot lies past the ancient oaks and pecan trees that defy local storms; ten acres of clumpy sandy dirt and sparse mounds of wild grass, are now thick with mesquite. Dense enough that walking through it becomes a daring duel of thorns and stepping into wallows left by the feral hogs. It will remain this way, because it now is a safe space for the deer and other wildlife to bed down.
Additional new fencing will begin after the first of the year, and once again a few head of cattle will be at home in smaller sections. They will be moved back to the land once the new area is properly fenced and replanted with grass, allowing some separation between the forage areas for wildlife. It's a slow process, but it is working. It is a part of revitalizing the land and welcoming wildlife back home.
I get updates from the cameras during the day, but more often at night. It’s better than television. This is the first time that I have had cameras on the property, and along with the obvious entertainment, I have learned that there are a lot more wild ones enjoying their stay. The deer and feral hogs, I have seen, the coyotes I have heard singing to me as I left near dark, and I knew of the dens in the old barn claimed by the foxes. Turkeys were plentiful near the creek, as were the raccoons, but the cameras lent themselves to the unseen, and the unexpected. Owls, hawks, coyotes and foxes, a trio of bobcat kittens rolling in the
grass, roadrunners, deer, of course the feral hogs that range from piglets to one hitting close to four hundred pounds. The mountain lion who appeared down the road a few months ago has not shown up, and I am good with that. Plenty of rabbits too, from the cottontails to a few jackrabbits. One can’t forget the barn cats or the neighbors' dogs who love to follow us around and surprisingly don’t chase the deer or other wild ones; other than the occasional cottontail. It’s a futile chase, though.
Night Moves.
Along with the wildlife on the cameras were cattle from the adjoining property popping up randomly on the trail cams. This landowner wears the skin of the patriarchy proudly, siding with orange delusions. I had long suspected this was happening but had no proof for a while. Along with veiled attempts to try and buy the land, now there are complaints about feeders, fences, and how often we are on the land that he cannot have. Interestingly, he spoke brazenly of me while I was on the phone with my daughter the first time the kids met him. She stayed quiet, to see just how far he would run with his anger and delusions. The boundaries I set years ago, he has ignored, and now with the cameras, he is in the spotlight.
I think he needs a hobby.
The issues regarding boundaries have come into play on my land, throughout the country, as well as across the world. Boundaries that defy common decency and recognition of rights that are inherent to us all. Personal boundaries have pushed my limits in protecting my property, my kids, and my well-being. Despite my wariness to do so, multiple legal avenues are aware and said person has been served with a no-trespass order.
This has always been my sanctuary, my place of peace, of reconnection. I have a renewed sense of connection with it now, despite the disruptions, machinations, and non-credible accusations because I refused multiple times to sell this Sacred land to him.
Thankfully, at the very least, there are no gaudy gold painted geegaws adorning the fenceline between us. My grandmother liked that word, explaining to me that a geegaw is simply a gaudy, useless trinket that
has no real purpose.
From my simple small ranch land to the remains of the White House to the individuals who want their way and pitch a fit if they are denied, they are about as geegaw as they can get.
Photo Credit: B. Fidlin