The "Man" in the title refers to my dump-running escapade on Saturday. The Hazardous Waste Disposal people were up at Heap's Peak on Saturday, so I figured I needed to run over all that oil I drained out of the cars last month. That turned into an all-day event of emptying out the van, loading it up with all the wood from our recent home projects (removing the old gas wall heater, replacing the back door, replacing the toilet in the boys' bathroom, tearing down the old, useless compost bin), cutting the old back door, unused closet doors, and broken tables in half with a chainsaw (whoo hoo!), dragging out the pounds and pounds of shards from our glass patio table that shattered in the winds this past winter, and a few cubic yards of other junk, and hauling it away. It was good to get the yard and back porch cleared out, and though it took no skill at all, it was sort of empowering anyway.
The "Animal" part comes from the menagerie that passed through our yard this weekend. I came home from the two-hour cleaning of the van after the dump run to see this:
Yes, indeed: a three-foot tall peahen was strutting through our front yard and honking at me.
We called up the animal rescue folks and were contemplating how to catch a bird that big (a bed sheet and a trash can were being considered) when we discovered that it in fact lives with our neighbor. I can't say he "owns" the bird because it adopted him. He keeps chickens under his deck, and one day about a year ago the peahen just showed up and has been living with them ever since. Apparently, some folks in Lake Arrowhead keep them around their grounds for atmosphere (driving the neighbors crazy); my guess is this is an escapee. Why she never showed up in our yard before, or even made a noise we heard, I cannot say.
Then, on Saturday night, our bear came through. (I don't know which of the half-dozen bears we've seen in the past few years it might be, but we feel a sense of ownership.) Of course, he dumped over all our garbage cans and spread the trash far and wide; this time, he also visited our new compost bin, knocking it a few feet off its base and emptying the thing out. (I can imagine a bear eating some of the leftovers, but even most of the potting soil was gone—do bears eat dirt regularly?)
Isn't all that interesting? It was to me, so therefore I assume it was for you, too. You're welcome.
3 comments:
Congrats on getting your porch and yard cleared. We are a work in progress here at Miller Manor, with the first bunch of debris waiting at the curb for pick up as I write.
I am surprised you have never heard the peahen, although I think it is the cock that makes most of the noise. My father-in-law used to have quite a menagerie of fowl, (in addition to his worm farm...) including wild and domestic turkeys, guinea fowl, chickens, peacocks and emus. The emus make a sound like a deep African drum that can be heard up to a mile away, and the peacocks made a sound that could easily be misinterpreted for a woman yelling, "HELP!" It was all quite interesting. As for the bears, that doesn't sound very fun.
TM
For some reason, going to the dump fills me with manly satisfaction every single time. Make of that what you will.
I've heard of folks around here keeping guinea hens because they (apparently) kill rattlesnakes. One woman did tell me that she only keeps females because the males are loud. Or possibly the other way around.
As for pea cocks, there was a group in Lincoln that lived at the old grave yard. We would be out on walks and would hear what sounded - as TM said - very much like a woman screaming. Very disconcerting to hear that coming from a grave yard.
Ok, I have lived here my whole life and I have never seen a peahen or any other variety of exotic bird in these red-neck parts. Sounds like a facinating weekend!
Post a Comment