May 15, 2008

Avoid the reeking herd?

Elinor Wylie wrote the words from her poem titled “The Eagle and the Mole.” I took meaning out of context and just could not agree with this New Jersey born writer and artist who lived and died years prior to my birth. Perhaps she’d started her poem differently if she’d lived at Angelkeep.

“Avoid the reeking herd, shun the polluted flock,” is not the result of a recent weekend at Angelkeep. Here it was a time when the joining and watching of the herd and flock were as desirable as baked pecan pie ala-mode. That’s a true craving.

Angelkeep was visited by a herd of deer. It was a large family, likely brothers and sisters, and cousins to boot. It included a small-fry that looked more late summer in size. That it survived the winter is remarkable. It had a limp. That saddened us watchers.

No fighting occurred at the corn kernel piles on the ground. All seemed to be enjoying being together. How I would have loved to join them. Minister to the little one’s sore leg. Patting the head of the mamas-to-be, I’d encourage mom to bring out the fawns sooner for our “look-see.” Divine it would have been to scratch the velvetless, ivory antlers of the ten-point buck that strolled into the yard second to last. He was followed by the only other buck. His rack was but six points and respect he gave to the other.

No doubt the buck was more interested, at this time of year, with the does than the kernels. He allowed the does to eat all the corn. He just followed and encouraged them. Something akin to bringing a box of chocolates to a girlfriend. The perfect-10 buck was discrete while visiting Angelkeep. Winter brings the desirable deer herds to Angelkeep but usually without a buck’s inclusion. Except for those yearlings, who only sport buds for antlers.

They were a joy to watch, certainly not the “reeking herd” of Mrs. Wylie’s poem.

On the opposite side of the house was a flock of robins. Angelkeep’s first of the season. A glory to the spirit. A reminder of winter past. Surely it was something else Elinor was speaking of when she suggested a “shun of the polluted flock.” How could she (if she’d witnessed) call these eight robins anything but wonderful. Beautiful! Maybe Elinor was having a bad day, or a troubled life.

Angelkeep’s preferable flock of robins was surprisingly fat. These birds were quite tolerant of each other. They hadn’t yet started nesting, so had no need for territorial rights. They shared the space of a pile of mulched fall leaves rotting away and apparently filled with available food items. It even gave me the thrill of thinking that soon the smell of earthworms would add fragrance to Angelkeep’s soil. Fishermen love that smell.

A year ago robin mates built a nest and raised a family on a downspout bend at Angelkeep. The story it produced is on the www.angelkeep.net website. I hope nesting happens again. How could that Jersey lady call any of God’s bird flocks polluted?

The weekend also has some solo encounters as exciting as a flock or herd. An owl was hiding under a stack of dried up petunia pots. It flew to the woods across Angelpond when I passed to deliver corn for the deer. So fast was its flight that identifying owl type was impossible. It was a beautiful, large, ochre streak of delight. Hopefully it will stay, nest, mate, and raise an owl family this season. What a delight—an owl flock.

I believe it was a Northern Harrier Hawk that also came alone. Its face looked like another owl. If my Audubon field guide helped me correctly identify it, then this was a female. She triggered a desire and inward exhilaration for a potential hawk nest nearby. What a natural joy it would be to watch the building of a nest and the growth of a family of hawks.

Just try to say “polluted hawk flock” three times fast. It can’t be done.

If hawks mated, nested, and reared family at Angelkeep, I’d likely write another short story about the family life of the Harrier herd.

Please don’t take my disappointment in author-poet-painter Wylie as gospel until you have read her yourself. Nature thrills likely caused me to get the wrong end of the stick about her words.

After creation, “God looked at what he had done. All of it was very good!” Genesis 1:31 CEV. That you can hang your hat on!

Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their back yard and have named it “Angelkeep.”

by ALAN DAUGHERTY

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