As people around the world stay indoors during this pandemic, wild animals have taken advantage of the peace and quiet. From gangs of turkeys roaming the empty streets of Baton Rouge, U.S.A., to feral Kashmiri mountain goats making their way through the Welsh town of Llandudno, there have been some unusual sightings of late.
Here on the farm we haven鈥檛 noticed any difference, which isn鈥檛 surprising. However, even as of last fall, as I visited my friend Cyndi in Alberta鈥檚 capital city, I noticed an interesting fact: there was more wildlife to be seen on the streets of this thriving metropolis, than on the lonesome prairie near my home.
Sighting coyotes isn鈥檛 unusual where I live, but to view them trotting unconcernedly down a city sidewalk in search of one of the juicy jackrabbits that are also prolific in my friend鈥檚 active neighbourhood 鈥� well that鈥檚 weird. And I haven鈥檛 seen a jackrabbit in years.
How about this? I like birds, and walk for miles each spring searching for nests. I slop around sloughs, march in mud, and thrust through thickets in my quest to locate one lousy duck nest. That鈥檚 not too much to ask for right? But, usually I see nothing, and return home bedraggled and sad.
Now the kicker: a mallard nested on Cyndi鈥檚 front lawn, in plain sight, under a cedar 鈥� in the middle of flipping Edmonton! There wasn鈥檛 even any water nearby. When the chicks hatched they had to cross a busy intersection, tramp past a shopping plaza, waddle behind a Chinese restaurant and scuttle through a schoolyard to get to a man-made pond in the center of a park. Does this make sense to you?
My friend even has squirrels frolicking in the three trees and six shrubs that have been mandated as backyard landscaping requirements in her area, and their antics entertain each day. I have great groves of trees everywhere you look, with nary a squirrel to see. Or any living creature at all, for that matter, apart from magpies 鈥� which I could do well without.
Nonetheless, the pi猫ce de r茅sistance was as I sat at their dinner table and gazed outside at the shredded corner of a sturdy sundeck, Cyndi鈥檚 husband Darrell had built. Splinters of wood lay everywhere, covering decorative chairs and a nearby barbeque. Further shards of timber coated the ground below and festooned a flourishing perennial border.
As I turned to ask what had happened, an enormous bird lit on one particularly mangled chunk. I was entranced! I鈥檇 only seen such a fine fowl in glossy magazines or comprehensive books devoted to the study of our feathered friends. Wow!
Then, with a flick of his tail, he gave the remaining wood careful consideration before commencing to hammer upon the battered remains of what had been a lovely ornamental railing. Woodchips flew.
鈥淒amn bird,鈥� Cyndi yelled, vigorously rapping on the window to shoo him away. 鈥淗e鈥檚 been here every day for the past month.鈥�
Every day? I mean, yeah, I guess he did systematically destroy an important component of their home, but I鈥檝e never laid eyes on a pileated woodpecker in my whole life. And yet one flies into the middle of a city whose population exceeds 981 thousand to brutalize an innocent veranda 鈥� every bloody day?
Apparently, if you want to see wildlife, forget about the countryside 鈥� you gotta go to town.
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