The Dark Of Night

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We have reached the season of cold, long nights in a cycle luring us to slow down and conserve energy for the lengthening days ahead. The Solstice arrives with regularity, marking the change from fall to winter and ushering in the new year. The weather during the coming months will be less predictable than it was in past winters. Homeowners are planning for increased power outages, floods, mudslides, and trees falling on their houses and cars.

From childhood, I remember the good part of winter: the soft glow of the painted stars twinkling on my bedroom ceiling. I’d lie awake, waiting in the early darkness before sleeping. During snowy days, I’d sled on the hill by my house and make a snowman on the lawn. The nights I enjoyed most were the moonless nights, when the air was crisp, and the stars beckoned me outside.

When I married and moved to Lansing Michigan,I was especially awed by the occasional displays of northern lights casting their spell over the renovated farmhouse I moved to after my fifth child was born.  With the snow was deep and my son soundly asleep, I’d cross-country ski through the of cut corn stalks left standing in a neighbor’s field. As I sped down the aisles, their bent shadows added mystery to the journey.  

Though the earth appeared peaceful, covered with snow, the night was never silent. The hoot of owls and the chirp of crickets created a cacophony of sounds that kept me alert. Frogs in the nearby wetland joined in their symphony with croaking harmony. As I continued skiing on deserted country roads, I’d be surprised by a field mouse scuttling by my feet or a bat flying too close for comfort. I froze in place the evening four luminous eyes watched me in the darkness. They belonged to a mother and faun that took off when I skied too close.

  I knew there were predators to watch out for, but I wasn’t scared, for they hid when I went by. But, after the house lights turned off, they weren’t afraid to climb the steps to our porch. I’d awaked to squawks from the cage protecting my daughter’s pet doves. I thought the birds were safe until the morning its door was unlatched, with one missing and the other dismembered in a pile of feathers. It could have been a raccoon, for they’re clever at opening simple latches with remarkable dexterity. It might have been a fox, for they eat birds whole but can’t digest the feathers. Perhaps it was a coyote, for an entire carcass was missing. These animals were known to live nearby.

 The house borders on forty miles of trails through forested parkland. With coyotes and owls in great abundance, I’m often awakened to hoots, howls, and local dogs barking their response. The coyotes appear fearless when they prance with their young ones down the street. The neighborhood was surprised five years ago when deer appeared in our yards. Due to their abundance since then, we’ve had to give up our vegetable gardens. A multiplying rabbit population doesn’t help. A deer ate my tomato plant and slept in my flower garden last summer, flattening the plants to the ground. Four elk were spotted exiting the trail by my house for the first time.

 During cold weather, my husband sets mouse traps to prevent mice from running between two-by-fours behind the drywall. Like the squirrels that find their way in, the mice can cause havoc by chewing on household wires. My husband catches at least one mouse daily trows in the woods for the coyotes. The Downey Woodpecker drilling holes in our siding is difficult to chase away. We left a stump tree in the yard for it to peck on.

Flying squirrels by night and grey squirrels by day empty the firs of pine cones. Hundreds of them land with a thud on our porch, leaving dobs of pitch that stick to shoes when we refill the hanging bird feeders. The pine cones weren’t a problem until the trees grew so tall that branches one hundred feet above spread over the deck. We’ve had to adapt to how these trees reproduce and to the squirrel’s need to collect pine cones, supplying food for the winter ahead.

Though surrounded by nature, I’m only fifteen minutes from Portland’s cultural center. I enjoy exploring its museums and the relish the holiday spirit while in its restaurants. The night sounds of the woods and the chatter of people on holiday-lit sidewalks remind me that I share the planet with others. Winter’s Solstice is a time to honor the coming season and remember to pay attention to the plants and animals that share the earth.

 References:

Website. (2024) Common Predators that Kill Chickens. Strombergs. Retrieved from https://www.strombergschickens.com/blog/the-common-predators-that-kill-chickens/?

  Books and art make great holiday gifts. Go to

https://www.secretsofamuseumjunkie.com for a selection.  For questions, contact me at marilynne@eichingerfinearat.com

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