There are only two known populations in Vermont and their exact locations are a closely guarded secret. Rattlesnakes are endangered in Vermont. There was a bounty on them in place until 1971. And even friendly visitors now could put the remaining individuals at risk.

I have good pictures on my real camera; I’ll post them in a few days. And I’m producing a radio story for my show.

But suffice it to say, we did spot rattlesnakes. Here’s a teaser photo.

Growing up, I didn’t even know Vermont had rattlers. But ever since I came back I’ve been wanting to catch a glimpse. What a thrill!!

Adrian made up some sugar water and the feeder is now out there. I can’t wait to see the hummingbird again!

Go West, young man!

Last night and this morning, on my walks in the woods, the red efts were everywhere! I love seeing these little critters. But having them all out on the trail makes for a rather unpleasant walk, actually.  I didn’t want to kill any underfoot but there were literally hundreds on the trail and so I spent an hour and a half looking down, making a harried scan of the ground before each footfall, trying to spot any bright orange streaks that might be in the danger zone.

To make matters worse, although many of them are bright orange and fairly visible, some of the bigger efts are a greenish gold color. They match exactly with the catkins dropped by the birch trees. So when I pass through the birch groves there are thousands of catkins and hundreds of newts and I start to think I can’t walk anywhere.

(By the way, if you’re not familiar with catkins, they are the little flower clusters of some trees and plants. The catkins that fall from the birches look like tiny replicas of the “worms” that explode out of one of those gag can of worms.)

Also, some of these newts are really tiny! They just sit there in the middle of the trail, trying to blend in, as if they want to be stepped on! Check out how small this one is, compared to my car key:

Needless to say, the walks this week feel a little bit like a sadistic obstacle course.

Everything is greener. The world is fresh and new and smells like wet leaves.

And things that were once invisible are now in plain view. The cobwebs look like spent seeds at the end of spindly branches, ready for one hard breath to blow them away.

I ran over and realized it was a small woodpecker lying on the ground, one wing flapping slightly and some small chirps coming from its injured body. Ollie kept sticking his face close to the bird and then backing away, trying to figure out what this thing was and whether or not he wanted to grab it. As I tried to get through the brambles and bushes, Oliver plucked up his courage and grabbed it.

Luckily, Ollie’s not much for killing, so he dropped the poor bird a few feet away and I managed to grab him and pull him away. But I had a moment of looking at that poor bird, one eye staring wildly and a red gash in its breast, and I realized I was probably a coward for running away.

The bird was injured, probably in pain, and clearly terrified. When I told him the story, Adrian suggested I should have found a rock and killed the bird quickly to put it out of its misery. The hawk was still hanging around, reluctant to let go of its meal so I feel somewhat mollified in thinking that the end was mercifully near regardless of whether it was me or the hawk doing the ultimate killing.

But it was a stark reminder of the law of the forest.

Ewwww.

Luckily, I noticed quickly. Adrian pulled the sucker right off me when I got home. It hadn’t had any time to get engorged and it was on me for an hour and a half at most, so I think I’m in the clear as far as Lyme goes, but I’ll keep an eye on that bite mark all the same.

If you lived in our neighborhood, that’s what you might have witnessed last night as Adrian and I discovered the bear was back in our yard.

I heard some noises out by the shed (thanks to open windows) just as we were falling asleep, and something told me it was the bear. So Adrian threw on his shoes and ran out to find the bear loping into our neighbor’s yard. I was the fraidy cat yelling at him not to chase the bear, and he was the one assuring me that the bear was not that close and wouldn’t chase us. I did finally walk out into the yard and we shined the flashlight into our neighbor’s tree and there was the bear, just kind of hanging out, watching us, the light giving him the eerie appearance of having glowing green eyes.

Then we left it alone, to go vandalize more neighbors’ trash cans and we went back to sleep.

In case you’re wondering how Ollie reacted, he slept soundly under the covers through the whole commotion.