These Venerable Woods

The crows’ caw at dawn drags me from my half awake haze. Just five more minutes, I whisper. As if on cue, their anisodactyl feet begin an impatient march across the roof while they wait for peanuts. 

The morning air is thick with humidity, cicadas drone from every unseen nook and cranny in these venerable woods. At night the tree frogs, crickets and katydids take the baton in this never ending symphony. Unmannered raccoons crashed the bird feeders overnight, tossing everything like a SWAT team raid on a drug kingpin’s den. Squirrels got nothin’ on raccoons. 

The wildlife here is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before in my own backyard—barred owls, a great horned owl, sharp-shinned hawks, red tailed hawks, a cormorant that shouldn’t even BE here, deer, horses, possums, raccoons, rabbits, bats, turtles, and recently, a four and a half foot rat snake that nearly gave me a heart attack when the dog found it and wanted to play. 

There’s a wildness here that walks the line of supernatural. There is a definite vibe after dark. You can hear it, feel it, sense it. Nature speaks differently here, she’s…persistent, so you must show your respect. She’s sharing her secrets with you, but she’s also watching. Life has new meaning here. 

The forest is alive, her song constant, yet ever changing.