A great horned owl mobbed by crows

This great horned owl was surrounded by noisy crows flying all around him.

 The crows were making a heck of a racket as I entered the forest and headed up the trail. I knew they were mobbing an unwelcome visitor to their part of the forest.

I followed the crows' voices until I found their unwelcome visitor - a great horned owl up to no good, probably there to rob a nest.

The crows called out nosily and flew close to the owl, and he showed concern and even fear, but the crows were no match for him. The owl waited them out.

It was worth it to see this real-life natural drama in the woods and how the owl expressively reacted to the danger of the attack around him as he hunted for an easy victim.

To see a video of this incident go to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-f-RLDJ8Z7c

A sad tale warning climate-deniers

         I recently ran into an old MAGA friend of mine from high school. We used to race stock cars as teen-agers. He still drove as though he was in competition out on the highways, even though he was over 70-years-old.

I like riding my electric bicycle and suggested he might try it.

So of course the conversation turned to climate change.

“Oh, so you’re one of those,” he said, his face glowing red. “You’re one of those morons who believe cars are hurting the planet from spewing out carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide. What an idiot! What happened to you? You used to have some sense. I love my Cadillac Escalade more than my life.”

“Well, I just look at the scientific evidence that excess carbon within a closed ecological system raises temperatures beyond a livable limit, as over ten thousand reputable scientists have said after studying the issue. All the carbon we’re spewing out from out cars, several hundred-million tons a day, is creating all these terrible weather systems that we’ve never seen before and altering ocean currents by raising temperatures of the water. We’ve probably already gone beyond the point of no return.”

“Nonsense! I can prove you’re wrong. Carbon never hurt anyone. Life itself is carbon-based.”

“Well, okay, tell me how you’re going to prove wrong all those scientists and the observable evidence.”

A slick smile crossed his face.

“What I’m going to do is take my big old wonderful Cadillac Escalade home.”

“And?”

“Then I’m going to park it in my garage with the motor running. I’m going to close all the windows and doors and just sit there on my thick, plush, leather seat while all the “harmful” carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide pump out of the exhaust and fills the garage. There won’t be any tornadoes or floods inside the garage, and the next time I see you, I’m going to have a big smile on my face because I proved you wrong.”

“No! Buddy, don’t do it!”

“Why? Are you afraid of being proved wrong?”

“No, I just don’t want to see you or anybody else die from carbon – ”

“Oh, there we go with that baloney that carbon kills people. It’s a fallacy! Climate change is a scam to make liberals rich!’

“How on earth does believing in climate change make liberals rich?”

“That’s it! Climate change is not real! You’re an idiot and I’m going to prove it to you right now!”

With that he drove off in his big shiny Cadillac Escalade.”

“You’ll see!” he screamed out the window as he drove away.

I never saw him again. At first his death was ruled a suicide, but after the police found a note on his dashboard exclaiming that “Climate change is a liberal plot!” his unfortunate and avoidable passing was attributed to pure stupidity.

Keeping things dignified with a pileated woodpecker

 

A male pileated woodpecker looks up from his work seeking insects in a stump.

Certain politicians can't refrain these days from the devious practice of giving those who oppose them nasty or supposedly humorous nicknames. It weakens their opponents and makes those who deliver the derogatory blows seem tough or powerful when they're not.

It isn't in good faith. But with the pileated woodpecker above I almost couldn't stop nicknaming him.

You see, for a couple of years now he and his mate have been frequenting an open field I know of and have been pounding away at a couple of rotted tree stumps in search of insects. It usually happens in spring when their nestlings are as hungry as teenage boys and need all the delicious worms and other insects they can find.

So today as I was photographing him I came up with the name "Stumpy."

It just popped into my head, I don't know why. I mean, I don't know why it popped into my head. I guess I called him Stumpy because he's been feeding for years off of the insects in these stumps.

I didn't mean any harm by it. I didn't mean to establish myself as the superior creature. I am not superior to a pileated woodpecker physically or mentally or emotionally. I am not competing with him for a job in Washington.

Still, I felt I had insulted his dignity by calling him Stumpy.

I vow not to do it again.

I think that's the fair policy. Just because he has to live off of insects from a stump he shouldn't be called Stumpy. He's just trying to make an honest living.

He should be called by his name, Mr. Pileated Woodpecker.

Anything less would be an insult.

Now if we could only get the loudmouths who thrive on political insults to others to show such compassion.

Mr. Pileated Woodpecker looing for an honest meal.