I have family in NH, in the White Mountains very close to the Canadian border. They’re place wouldn’t sound like much (a double wide on a plot of land they bought CHEAP because of ultility poles on site), but the view is spectacular, and the wildlife sitings are regular. I was thrilled to “meet” some new birds there, and walk with Uncle Herb to the site where he’d spotted some beavers setting up household. They have regular close encounters of the moose kind. But holy moly, I couldn’t take the winters up there.

So here I am at 8:30 in the am and my natural encounter du jour is occurring as usual…squirrel nutkin is racing back and forth on my roof. When I bring the puppy out for her walk in a bit there will be the regulars, a veritable herd of Muscovy ducks and their ducklings, Great Blue Herons who like ducklings for breakfast, red-eared pond sliders who poke their heads out whenever we approach the drainage lake (they are mighty used to hand-outs), tri-colored herons, glossy ibis, white ibis, wood storks, red shoulders, marsh ducks, ospreys…and on it goes. We live in a pathetically over-developed area (which I would object to violently if it wasn’t necessary for the moment), but we are close to a large state park that is one of several Everglades preserves, so at least the wildlife is visible daily. And even the mighty vulture adds to the pleasantry of it. My butterfly garden has suffered fiercely after the hurricane season, but at least the monarchs are back. Sadly, I actually have to buy lady bugs to keep the aphid population even marginally under control.

It’s like Ron says; you can’t choose to be or not be a dork. We are born dorks…or we are born something else. Or sometimes we are halflings — half dork and half something else. Or quad-dorks. Or multi-dorknic.

Proof? You want proof? Okay. I learned “swell foop” from my parents.

My other favorite word dorkiness is to refer to “Our Leerless Feeder.”

In due time, all will come to love their dork overloads. I mean overlords.

We also saw many various swallowtail butterfiles which sadly I don’t see around here quite as much.

Then here I am in New England and it seems that within the last four or five years I’ve noticed all kinds of cool things, like bald eagles perched in trees along the highway, hawks flying everywhere and even a Perigrin (sp?) Falcon a couple of times, once perched across my house on the firehouse steeple.

When I lived in Michigan we had a house out in the country and the deer would come and hang out in the orchard on the property. A light swooped over the orchard in the black summer darkness would emit a million lights of eyes shining back. We once had a doe and her fawn camping out behind the house in a nest of tall grass we didn’t bother to cut. I saw a buck the first and only time, it came running across the front lawn, full eight points, was quite a thing to see.

The natural setting here in New Hampster is what keeps me here, a five minute drive and I can bike in the woods all day and not see a single soul. Moose venture into town every now and again and it is said that bears inhabit the park about a fifteen minute drive out.

Building puts us in remote areas often as well and me and the crew have enjoyed some interesting wildlife that sneak around the jobsites as well.

That caterpiller is awfully neat and yes, his color is his protection. Hiking is good for the mind, body and soul.

I’m glad you managed to keep Bert from investigating the mystery snake too closely. It seems like every dog I’ve ever seen bitten by a venomous snake was bitten on or around the head, I guess because dogs lead with their noses. Unfortunately it makes the bites that much more dangerous.

Oh, and IIRC, Coral Snakes actually have round pupils unlike the other North American venomous snakes. Not really relevant to this because they don’t get to anaconda size, but just in case.

I was biking in Boston on the Muddy River bike trail when I was nearly knocked off my bike by a red tail hawk. He had a squirrel dialed in and wasn’t going to change course for me. I ended up with a couple of feathers in my bike helmet, he ended up with breakfast.

Hawks are welcome check and balance in the urban ecosystem. I’ve heard that a nearby neighborhood with a serious rat problem has been receiving visits from the local hawks, drawn to streets and alleys full of rats like mall visitors to Old Country Buffet. Harvard was rumored to be on the verge of poisoning squirrels in Harvard Yard (they were aggressive and increasingly rabid) when first one hawk, then his mate moved onto a high-rise administration building. The squirrels are far less numerous and more circumspect these days.

I wonder if we can train them to attack neocons?