Reporting from the Front Lines
There is a battle being waged. A mighty, vicious, chirpy battle. Take no prisoners. Victory is secured only by chasing the enemy away.
Nothing but full retreat shall be accepted.
Here is a photo of the front lines. Ground zero for the nastiest battle I’ve ever had to witness.
That’s right. It’s a fig tree. In the corner of my front yard.
The birds (mostly snotty jays) fight birds. The squirrels (generally snotty) fight the other squirrels. Then the birds join forces with other birds and the squirrels join forces with other squirrels and it’s full on species on species battle. It’s vicious! And loud.
The menagerie will squawk and chirp and flap wings and shake tails and go nuts at each other.
“Come at me, bro!!”
Yes, I’ve actually seen the birds and squirrels get into a physical tussle.
This is the prize in the all out war:
Figs. Lovely, sweet, squishy figs.
As you can see, our tree is heavy with fruit this year.
The figs on the sunny side of the tree have already ripened to brownish perfection. Tasty sugary carbs. Good energy for the wild animals.
The shady side of the tree still has a ways to go.
Which means this battle will rage on for a while.
My home studio is at this corner of the house and looks out over the fig tree. It’s rather disconcerting to be peacefully writing or painting and hear this angry battle going on right outside my window.
I look forward to the persimmon tree coming on with fruit. It’s in the back of the house and the battle will move there, away from my view and out of hearing range.
Oh, I almost forgot, the deer are in on this battle too. They eat the leaves on the low branches and like to leave their calling card for me under the tree.
(Congratulations long time readers, that’s the second time I’ve treated you to a photo of deer poop. Just keeping it classy here at Oh Fair New Mexico.)
Then the feline gets in the window and chatters at them all. Good gato mighty, it’s a cacophony over here.
Heaven help the human who simply tries to pick a few fresh figs for her morning cereal. The squawking, the strafing, the nasty chirps. Geez!
I’ll tell you, these were hard won. But oh so very tasty.
