Rushing the Season

Halloween is still a month or so away and I have already started putting up decorations.  All I need are a few bats to hang under the eaves to go with the vultures in the tree.  These are but a fraction of the flock that is gathering here.  They continue their comedy act as they wobble on the power lines.  Lacking a larynx, these magnificent, slightly ominous birds are silent as they sit sunning themselves.  I scan the skies every afternoon now, hoping I don't miss the day the vultures take off on their journey to their winter campground.

The other afternoon I hauled a wagon load of weeds out to the burn pile.  In the bottom of the wagon, suddenly there was a quick, skittering movement.  Hiding under the few leaves left was one of those beautiful skinks.  I took a picture, but it is blurry as skinks are rather camera shy.  Only about four inches long, this little guy wriggled like a fast snake with tiny back legs; if he had front legs at all, they were so shortened as to be invisible.  Unlike the abundant lizards seen everywhere, it is rare to catch a glimpse of skinks, a nice surprise.

"You scratch my back; I'll scratch yours."  The turkeys parade through the property as if it were theirs.  Searching for bugs and seeds on the north slope, they are doing an excellent job of clearing away the tall dry weeds that grew there, helping cut down on fire danger.  The ornamental grass that grows in the herb garden has put up the long seed stems that seem to be a favorite of the turkeys.  They'll start at the bottom and strip the stalk to the tip.  That grass makes the garden look so straggly and unkempt, but it's a small favor to please the turkeys who have cleaned up the rest of the yard.  Barely daybreak, I hear the first crew arrive on the job.  Unlike the vultures, the turkeys are a vocal bunch.  It's best they gather here; Thanksgiving is coming.