Critter watch

Here in suburban Portland, Maine our neighborhood once had a rural feel. Pheasants once strutted around the back yard and there were vast expanses of fields and over-grown orchards. I've watched the change with a sense of sadness. Traffic on our 25mph road has increased dramatically. Condominium projects have replaced the fields and the rural wildness we once imagined we had. But, we adapt.

The pheasants are long gone. But other critters have moved into the neighborhood and seem to thrive here. The tree rats, better known as squirrels, are happy as can be. In fact, Baxter and I just chased one from the bird feeder. Gudrun came to the door as I came huffing and puffing back into the house, carrying the hound. "What on earth?" "Just the squirrels, again," said I. Baxter is not let out of the house without a leash. But when I burst from the door in pursuit of the bird-food bandit, Baxter was right on my heels, dashing into the compost heap after the varmint. As I lugged him back into the house I could feel him panting. Ah, the thrill of the hunt.

It reminds me.... I haven't seen the woodchuck for a few weeks. I know he's out there...plotting, waiting to attack my garden or my flowers, or, God forbid, my scarlet runner plants. I barricaded his wood pile house a couple weeks ago and he hasn't been around since. BUT....this morning, as I look at the wood pile, I note that the tarp has been lifted, ever so slightly, in the middle. He may well be back. Waiting. Watching. Preparing to launch an attack on my tiny piece of suburbia. I'm ready.

So it goes, in the Portland burbs of 2010. Squirrels, woodchucks, a fox every so often, and our constant friends, the cardinals, jays, gold finches, chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers and occasional warbler. At nighttime the racoons come out. And the skunks.

It seems we've all adapted to the sprawl. And we go on, making the most of this moment.