Happy Trails

[BoSoxGal]

When I walk or ride my bike at night, I also wear a lightweight, slipover vest with reflective triangle on it. It's VERY hard to miss me! They are cheap and I'd highly recommend one if you are regularly riding in low light or dark conditions.

[loCAtek]

FoooooOOOOOOoooooooghhh..




...has rolled in complete banks now. A true sign of Fall's take over – the mists of Autumn! Not a rollicking King as was Summer; Autumn's mood is damper and darker, and his conqueror's cape drifts slowly about him as he strolls somberly through his new domain.

Amongst his royal repertoire is: His Creep Factor. Fall is known as the 'Scary Season' for a reason; and not just because he hosts Halloween. There something spooky in the air that even the city-folk can feel, when the days get shorter and the dry leaves start blowing away.

Also in the air are more owls. I'd never put it together before, but many species of owls finish fledging and become independent during this time. So, as it gets darker earlier, the chance of spying a young owl establishing a territory is pretty good. This is probably why owls are often associated with this season more than any other.

I've even seen a few other night-owls on or near the trail these days. It had seemed strange to see Captain Papa owl so far from home late one evening- but there was definitely a shadowy, predatory shape perched on a traffic sign near the freeway. His back was to me, as he studied intently the slope of the berm rolling down to a parking lot, which was a perfect position from which to watch for prey ...and swoop down on them!
As I neared, I could see that that wasn't Papa, for he was too large. Quite likely this was a Barn Owl (Tyto alba), and he being far from the Burrow Base was a good thing; he wasn't infringing on the Owlitos huntin' grounds at all.

I'd been bleating at the city-sheep and talking to the bunnies, so I wondered if I could commune with this new-comer too? He still hadn't noticed I was approaching, so when I got close, I called to him in my best owl-ese, “Uoo-Uoo” (I hoped I'd gotten the accent right, I had been practicing) Maybe, it was close, 'cause he didn't startle at the sound, no. He swiveled his head around, with that fluid sweep like a turret on a mount; expecting to see an owly amigo ...when he jumped at the sight of a person instead!

It was absolutely a Looney Tunes moment! He leaped into the sky; whirled his wings back in alignment with his head; and with a furious flapping, he lost a few feathers in his frantic flight of flight!
Oops, sorry ~heh.
...and don't worry, that didn't discourage him from sticking around. I've seen him in that area since.

Of course, some daysnights you're the spook, and some nights you're the spook-ee...

The fog hides one elusive animal that I'm not able to identity, exactly. I only hear it's thrashing in the foliage past the fence, without knowing what it is. Of course, that's creepy! That first night, it nearly gave me a cardiac arrest when it crashed through the leaves, feet away from me through the chain-link. All I could do was accelerate, and hope that humungous, herculean, hiding in the hedgerows was not human. Homo Sapiens Sapiens is the only critter, I'm really scared of out here.
Be it because of their obnoxious automobiles, or their tendency to prey on one another; either/or, there are times, I'm not crazy about my own species. For a while, I considered not using the trail...

If I can see them, they're not a threat, just another graveyard shift worker usually, night-owls in their own right... but, if they come out from ambush; I could be in for an awful bed-time story!

Not that, that's happened, I'm still here, aren't I? I've just had the shit scared outta a few times by what was probably a raccoon or a skunk. Bless their furry little hides.

[loCAtek]

Finally, the crickets have been silenced, as well as most of the late-night-noise is muffled now, even more so than before. Fewer BuOws and Buns are about, and who can blame them? The city has shifted the sheep again, only to lay down stinky, ugly asphalt along the stretch of road that bordered the burrow base.

Ugh, talk about unveiling the unwelcome mat! Pee-ew! Even in the evening, that stench was awful. Chingo, all that care and concern for the critters was canceled out with the coming of road crews ...bleh!
It was keeping every critter away!

So... they moved out ...spreading; stalking, yet surprising me in subtle ways; and nearly gotten me arrested!

The cop thought I was completely, forkin' crazy, and even called for back-up; no joke! If I had told him, the Owls had made me do it, he'd have tazed me, fer sure. As it was, I got the full line of questioning:

Are you currently taking any medications?

Are you under any psychiatric care?

Have you ever had thoughts of harming yourself?

[WTF] Are you doing, on the side of the road?


My Answer:

I was saving a snake.







That was when he called for back-up.


Pues sí, the Owlitos told me to do it! It had been during of those hiatuses, where I hadn't seen anything interesting on the trail in a while; not until I'd hit the edge of the Mobile Home Park, would I see some night life and that was usually in the form of bored housecats, whoopie. Which means I have to traverse in center of the park roads, coZ cats like to sit IN the street, Seva style, like they own the pavement. In the dark, they do. By daylight, they couldn't do this, they'd get runover. Juss saying'.
(Once, I saw a very guilty looking dog, who almost stopped for a pat, but then remembered, he was supposed to be home by now; and boy, was Dad gonna be piiiiiissed!)

So, I'd enter the park and was resigning myself to cycling the last few blocks home alone, because the bunnies and the burrowers never come in here. They tolerate man's presence, but don't really associate with such pestilent polluters as us people; so they prefer to avoid the noid...


SCHREEEEEEEECH!!!!


Right over my forkin' head! How can such a small bird make such a big noise!? Orale! My ass nearly flipped over the handle bars and into an ornamental shrubbery, it did! Oh, Los Owlitos made me such a liar! They did it on purpose too, I know it. Must have been laffing their little tail-feathered, asses off, pinche putos!

Then, as soon as I made it home;relaxed and shed my backpack and jacket;



SCHREEEEEEEECH!!!!


Again! Right outside my bedroom window! They WERE stalking me! They knEw where I lived! Raptor-bastards! They now had my complete and undivided attention: I knew they had someting for me.

Traditionally, owls are messengers ...just not the good kind usually. They are said to bare word from the underworld, or the dark side, if you will; and a message from those guys, ain't often good.

Hey, we all got our job to do, and I don't blame the owls; I am part of the native wild-night-life too now, so it stands to reason that I'd get my official duty station posting from them.
They just didn't have to be so pushy about it.

One of our most ancient and revered Meso-American Goddesses, 'The Spider Goddess' commanded all the creatures of the night; and on her headdress she wore the image of a BuOw – A Burrowing Owl: I'm not making this up, surf it! There's lots of archeological evidence; not to mention that 'Owl' in Spanish is 'Búho', which makes the connection uncanny, and the coincidental association unmistakable. I'd received a message from the Goddess, and had no choice to obey my ancestral emissaries!




So, here I was saving a snake...

And, La Policia didn't believe me! Com'on so what, that most druggies going into withdrawal experience symptoms of 'crawlies' or the feeling of bugs or snakes writhing on their skin?
I had legitimately thrown my jacket over a water-snake who was trying to cross the road, and was shaking it out over the concrete barricade to release him to safety when the cops showed up, 'cause the owlitos had told me to, honest!
Don' taz me, bro!

I tried to explain; a few nights before, I'd had had my first assignment- SAS - Save a Skunk!

OK, I have never had anything against skunks; I've just never had anything FOR skunks either...
However I do have a thing about roadkill; because the poor, stoopid critters haven't got a chance against two-ton automobiles, it's just not a fair fight. Add to that the fact that this was the Princess of Skunks; and I had to admit, the Owlitos were right, I had to do something.

It's at this damn rail road crossing bridge, a steep concrete span, that I sweat over twice a day; that no creature on Goddess's Green Earth should be traversing, but yet there was where I found a miracle of modern Mephitidae mammals- a white skunk!
No, I told you, I wasn't trippin', this was a rare, but true form of skunk species (Don't google it, you'll get pot references) At first, I thought it was a cat, but cats don't have that waddle-walk.
...and the damn thing was cruising the freeway! Sure, it was hella late, like two o'clock in the frickin' morning, but no time is a good time to be playing in traffic. I tried 'herding' her down the hill, in the direction of the suburban safety at the bottom, where she could steal catfood at her leisure. With my bike lights to play interference around her movements, I hoped she'd stick to the gutter on her hike home; then she did the worst thing possible- make a break for the other side of the road. Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

I could only watch, (as I wasn't going to get close enough to get sprayed) as she waddled four lanes of asphalt treachery ...and made it! Disappearing into the hedges on the far side. ~whew~ Hill patrol is harrowing work!

Damn cars, damn roads.

[loCAtek]

I was talking to the sheep the other day...

I did too! I mentioned that in my very first OP, I 'Baaaaaah' at the city sheep, because if they don't see or hear you coming they startle, an' startling sheep ain't cool.

At night, you can't just make any old sound, because anything approaching the flock in dark is a potential big baaad wolf, and they will freak out.

Lately, they've been bleating back ...at least the lambs do. That's right! Here it is near winter and all the eves are lambing! There's a new baby lamb, damn near every day!

Even though they're tiny, you can instantly spot their brilliant new coats against the shabby, dirty wool of the rest of the flock. Yea, you can forget that sheep are supposed to be white, they turn so dingy-dull, but the lambs are brighter than white: they're pure-ultra-bright! <gleam> You can see why they were chosen to symbolize divine peace and joy: they're either bucking and prancing with Joie de vivre; while getting every wag possible outta their little stub of a tail. Or; resting blissfully in the grass with beatific smiles on their faces and their long-lashed eyes, sleepy with happiness. I t was the lambs, who taught me what 'Bah' meant. (Did too, shut up!)

Now that they've been herded to beside the bike trail right behind the chain link... (I've noted the flock is slowly being rotated around the (VTA) Santa Clara Valley Transportation Authority. They'll graze the fields in a counter clock-wise fashion, being moved every coupla weeks...) Here's the best part; since they aren't going far, they don't need to take a truck to work any longer.
Herding the flock is done the old fashioned way- by sheep-dog! That border collie expresses his own joy, with exuberant awesome speed, and whirls of such smooth effortlessness, that he's more of a low-flying, furry, luck dragon, than a dog.

Visual Aid- A Luck Dragon;





As the sheep are being whipped up by this whirlwind, they all bleat about it! They're all saying the same thing: which is what the lambies taught me: 'Bah' in sheep means 'Come!', 'Follow!', or: 'I'm coming!' 'I'm following!' When the flock comes together they instruct and assure each other: come-follow-I'm coming-I'm following!~

When I bleat out to the flock it, it calms them, 'cause I'm saying 'I'm coming!' to them. The lambies, as per their nature, are over-joyed to hear that, and call out a welcome, 'Yes-yes, come/follow the flock!' baaah-baaaaaaaah!

While I worry needlessly about these newborns withstanding the cold nights; that wasn't the worst part of Autumninum...

Not enough critters and one too many humans on the trail at night; that's what the problemo was. Been a long while since I've seen a bunny or a burrower, maybe because it's getting too darn cold! The only ones comfortable are the city-sheep, and they'll be moving along soon enough. <sigh> I don't wanna to be the only one out here if/when my stalker appears again. Well, he's not a stalker, per se, just some guy I keep awkwardly bumping into a little too often lately. He's the homeless guy I mentioned in that other thread; I'd told ya, I see him walking-walking-walking the streets, and only once on the trail at night? Well now, I've seen him twice more in less than a week. I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid, these encounters are getting too close to the third kind. Last thing he needs to know, is that this is a regular route I take ALONE, and while I don't carry cash, he may not take my word for it, as he tries to mug me... and I don' wanna hurt the scrawny dude in self-defense. Unleash the Luchador !

Not to worry, the decision was made for me anywayZ, the job is shifting me and everybody else to days. I had had my last night shift, and soon I would rise (groggily) with the sun to work again. As if the Owlitos knew that.

As if for weeks, when I looked for them, they hadn't felt any need to do more than Skree from the trees, but not show themselves. The city-sheep had even knocked over the barricade again ..and no one had come to right it. Why? Were the Owlitos ...gone?

One night, the ride was over; I'd reached the corner; thankfully I'd met no one on the trail, so out of habit I coasted towards burrow base to see if anyone was on duty... No, the barricade was still down ...but there at Post 2 was

Papa!

He was perched on the Diamond sign, a little fluffy from the cold, but otherwise proud and posed as usual, and looking languidly down at Loca.

'Uoo-uoo?' I tried, politely.






'Si-si, carry on, I will watch and wait.' said El Señor sentinel silently, 'All's well."



"Gracias Señor, muchos gracias. Buenas noches."




<pull back on rider, cycling away home.>

[loCAtek]

What was Winter like in Localand ?

Well, mostly spent with a lot of dull humans, and I won't bore you with the details a that, here and now, no sir. Orale', I've done that to you enough already.

Why, winter started out perfectly peaceful, and even/also with some pleasant pageantry;
For this new season's monarchy™ was not held by a petty King, but was reigned over by a regal Queen!
A pretty queen, that I can say I saw myself, 'eh?
No well, I didn't see her-her, but I saw her pomp and circumstance procession arrive personally, and you know how long royal processions take to proceed!? It's harder to hasten royals, than it is to overthrow their thrones in time for tea and the tabloid news. So sayin', I didn't see her particular preeminent presence, on pretense, since I had to get to work on time and couldn't wait and watch the whole, forkin' parade; but still it was a pleasure to perceive, by my person. Pues si'.

It was in the early-early dawn; (in spite of having to work days, I was still cycling my commute at O'dark-thirty every damn day, therefore 'dawn', included the wee-est, darkest hours before daylight, dammit.) ...this misty morning however, there was ~magic~ in the sky, which was impossible to miss!

Her Royal Winter was right there, slowly passing right over my park, moving more majestically than any mundane motorcade of mere mortal monarchs, of barely marriageable age, could manage ...yet she did it, and far more marvelously.
I don't care when any human calender said it was supposedto arrive; but that, I was sure, was the celestial chariot of winter arriving, I just knew it. Dunno how, but I did, so there. Of course, I wanted to take a picture, but it was still dark, I said, okay?

Okay, but I'll describe it to you like this:
Glowing softly with a pearly luminescent, her royal coach approached through the starlit sky, and slowly glided gracefully to the horizon. ...Uh yea, Her Majesty, Queen Winter's carriage was the full moon; what did you think it was, a UFO? Com'on man, nature has manners and class, and doesn't need to resort to machines, mechanisms nor mighty motor-techo, chingo no! Ancient orbital satellites are far cooler modes of transportation, trust me, ...and much more memorable.
This wasn't the larger 'perigee' astronomical moon of later, however it was still muy impresionante enough to stun the city-slickers, and cause more than a few traffic accidents by rubberneckers, none-the-less.

The mesmerizing settling moon silently, gently, displaced the cloak of thick, misty fog the Autumn King had laid down on the land, chivalrously for the Queen of Winter to set her first, frozen step to earth, on. While the whole scene was glittered with beads of atmospheric moisture that enveloped and sparkled with miniature lunar rainbows...
No, no battle nor contest for supremacy, here folks. Nada. This was a show of celebration and concession.

For: the Fall Season has a secret crush on the fair Lady in White, me thinks. Thus so, he fell with gentlemanly honor, falling out gracefully; and he exited easily and didn't make a fuss at all. Just lay down his crown; bowed out; then faded away after the festivities were over ...yet not completely unobserved either; because I saw him leave, too. Did too, Jeez...

Naturally, his royal banner colors are orange and black, but it took me a bit of a minute to recognize His Highness, in his traveling vestments, whist I was cycling home. (Even a King can not camouflage himself completely from a keen commentator.) The shorter days had me leaving for work in the dark, and returning in the dusk, however it wasn't dim enough, that I didn't notice movement in the marsh-grass beyond the chainlink. At first, I thought that was a small black bird, flying low over the swamp reeds that lined the creek, I saw an eye surrounded by feathers ...but if so, then that fowl shouldn't have been able to stay aloft, moving at so mightily slow a pace ...but there was more to that twitterer, than met my eye... - Oh! that was just his head; and he wasn't flying; he was walking; nay strutting, through the plants with purpose and poise. It was indeed: a pheasant! A stately, orange and black pheasant, that I knew could not normally be found in the city at any time; so that may have been in actuality: His Majesty Autumn, the once and future King, departing in self-imposed exile, bearing his unrequited love like a badge, away into the lonely heart's world.

Aw.

Farewell sweet sovereign, we salute thee and thy dedication to duty.










Next: What the Owlitos thought a this...

[loCAtek]

Cali's Queen winter came a calm chill, that made things even quieter.
The owlito family offspring had flown, Captain Papa and Sra Mama were seen only but briefly, usually perched on traffic signs or fences not as near to the burrow base anymore. You would still hear their skreets more often than see them, really.
For contrary to popular belief: BuOws do NOT live in holes in the ground, year 'round. A nice, clean burrow is picked out each year for nesting, but if they need no nest, they need no burrow. Frankly, staying underground during the winter is a bad idea for a bird; remember: Burrowing Owls don't really burrow, nor dig; no, they leave that dirty work to the lower enlisted Ground Squirrels. The fields in winter here, will finally receive steady rain, and no hole can stay clean during that time, in fact many burrows will collapse from the soil turning to mud. The squirrels? They just dig deeper, but that's too undignified for our Officer Owls.

No, Mama and Papa Owlito flew off into their surrounding hunting grounds to find shelter elsewhere. Personally, I believe they took to the neighboring VTA open garages. Those were close enough and ideal roofed rafters that many species of owl favor, like in their traditionally known occupation of barns.

Back in the fleet at ACU – 5, our LCAC hangers (these were basically aircraft hangers with huge bay doors like you see in any Air Force movie) ... would house Great Horned Owls that stayed well hidden in the day, high up in the crossbeams, but if you had duty at night, you might patrol through the hangers to see the huge, hulking, avians swooping and diving across the ceiling. You're thinking, how could you see them that well in the dark, so high up there? Well, rarely were the hangers ever darkened, work went on 'round the clock 24/7; leaving the place lit up, most of the time. Not that the Great Ones ever cared; their prey was outside in the night, where they wouldn't see the mighty winged predators coming for them ~whoooosh~

Therefore, my thoughts were that the Burrow Owls were off taking a well deserved vacation, before returning to their summer home next year. In fact, I caught mama having a little spa, on one of the first days of winter-
The fogs had begun to be washed away by a few small sprinkles, and soon my jackets would have to replaced with raincoats. I was pushing doing that until the last minute, because cycling with a coat on is a bear, but I learned my lesson one dark day, when the cloudy skies finally opened up with some real rain. Fortunately, half-way home already, I had hit the trail; and would only get a little wet, but that would be bearable. Honestly, it was a nice relaxing ride, because the smell of the soaking asphalt and concrete stone was rising, while the streetlights were coming on, shining through the clear drops falling. ... Those are zen moments, when everything, including nature and man actually seem to be in harmony. Give it about an hour of biking in the cold and wet, and I'd change my mind, but for that moment, all was well in the Loca-verse.
'Rounding the critter corner, there was another small Señora enjoying the Queen's gift. The Earth was just getting damp, and there was a silhouetted shape sitting on the barricade. At first, I thought it was a pair of Owlitos for the blurred form was so wide that it could have been two BuOws close side by side. Rain and dark held out that image till I could get close enough to see her clearly; it was only Mama, but she was welcoming the shower with her wings spread open wide to receive it. We dwellers of the desert, do that- we take the first rain of the season as a blessing. The water of life was returning.
Surely though, I knew that I wouldn't see her again soon, for the rains would have her and her familia away for good for the winter. So this was my last chance to say Adios.
'Uoo-Uoo' said I.

Sra Mama wasn't nearly so formal as her mate, she just raised her feathers, and waved.

You're thinking, what I'm thinking; that this couldn't really be her responding to me, could it? She was just shaking the water off her wings, right? I'd been anthropomorphizing the Owlitos for months, but no, this really happened, Mama hadn't flapped both wings to flick away rain, only one in my direction. To test that, I tried again, calling, 'Uoo-Uoo' ...in return, she waved again. Adios.

Next: Spring, and I wonder where the Owls are?

[loCAtek]

Where did they go, a year ago?


Last year, El Capitán did not return. Oh, Los Owlitos returned, but none of them were Capitán Papa, no. Where did he, proud and tall, go; I know not.

I only know that, this time last year, I, La Loca, came to the Critter Corner, one May Day and found several offending Humans [with cameras]in her fair fields.

From January '11, I'd been observing the Burrow Base, and seen a male and female Owlito moving in; but they didn't like the intrusion of:
The Red Hawk,
The City Sheep/Goats
The Mechas/Mowers of grass/weeds

...and thus so, they: the BuOws, didn't breed in these backwoods this last year.

The descendants, established a nest, not blocks away in an abandoned asylum; for I knew the photographer following them; I'd met him in Los Owlito's fields: for it was he and his fellow Audubon Socialites, that I found last May whist cycling.

I'd told them last year, of my nocturnal observations, after I found them trying to photograph the Burrowers in the VTA field. Thus so, I'd gotten their emails, and as an unofficial, assigned, amateur surveyor, reported what movements as I saw them to the SCVAS: Santa Clara Valley Audubon Society.

The result was;



...this year, the BuOws land was federally protected:

Go Homeland Security, Save those Owlitos, Hoorah!

[MajGenl.Meade]

[Rick]

Rubato ought to be able to post some slug crossing sign photos...