I have been privileged to live in several different cottages here on Island both during winter and summer months. It’s a whole new learning of different habitat for local wildlife and for myself-new birds to identify in the yard, new and quickly becoming familiar faces to wave to during a much longer bicycle commute, fumbling to find different light switches (at night) memorizing and dodging different sprinkler systems (in morning) and with all the change, I remember to keep my Naturalist sense of humor too……
A couple field notes back I was thrilled at the prospect of a coyote den under floorboards of a back bedroom. I didn’t think it was entirely impossible, as I was convinced I heard a small canine voice bark whenever I came home. So real was this Wild Kingdom vision in my thoughts that Larry Horn was asked for advice….even he thought snarly baby raccoons was more probable, and promptly dimmed my dream of writing “My Side of the Island” with a falcon holding steady on my handle bars and neighborly coyotes returning my lost (but still chewed) glove.
For weeks, I heard this “baby-something” yapping in the early morn and late eve and then its lonely midnight crying during thunderstorms.
When Julian from Z&S crawled around the dirt space under the cottage confirming no such den- only a petrified acorn on a windowsill, I began to tap walls and flash lights under broken shingles imagining I am now coaxing a hungry chattering squirrel trapped and constantly calling for Mama!
Then there were late night Googles of animal sounds from barking rabbits to growling rodents, and I can’t forget the many scat photos I collected and listed on Favorites.
Most of all I envisioned a wildlife rescue, so I kept up with roadside consulting with Race Rock Garden Co.’s Carl Scroxton and anyone else who would listen.
There must have been a bit of prayerful thought too as my last rescue attempt was laughingly described to Karl Eirikssen of Church On The Rock. I told him “Now I am hearing this strange barking all times during the day!”
Shortly afterwards, Karl came to investigate and climbed down into the dark under the cottage.
“There is a small puddle down here and look who is in it!”
He handed me a beautiful and ever so patient frog-an uncommon Northern Leopard frog which deserves its very own field note.
I quickly released my friend, my wild menagerie…..
For now, the croaks on me!!!
