A wild start to my day!

This morning I went out early to let my girls out and, as usual, Chi-Chi was the first out, followed by the others, with Missy last, always in that order.

Chi-Chi

Missy 

The previous night when I put them away, I had left a squeaky toy of Jacko's behind, it fell out my pocket onto the lawn, and this caused a HUGE ruckus!

They took turns in circling it while cackling loudly and those in the side-lines had their necks stretched out to the maximum, trying to stare it down! Those chickens carried on like they had a 3-meter Cobra in the backyard. They cackled and squawked and ran in and out of the hen house, wanting a better look at the 'thing'. None of them touched it.

The on-lookers running around in circles 

They only settled down once I picked the bright orange and blue toy up and removed it. They know every inch of their territory and just one thing out of place sends them into a flap - literally. Chi-Chi even double-checked after I removed it to see if it was really gone!

Chi-Chi making sure the 'thing' hadn't jumped into the pot to hide 

I go out into the garden earlier now the weather is warming up. Not that I can feel it that much yet, but the peach tree's blossoms is a sure indication that it has warmed up!

Just after sunrise, when the birds are calling out for the first time that day, I wander around, looking and thinking, filling the bird feeders, noticing what needs to be done in the garden and making a mental note. I understand now why gardening is such a popular pastime for retired folk. Not only is there a lot of gentle and robust work to be done, there is life and the potential for growth and change and as you grow older, it's wonderful being a part of that.

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Striped Grass Mouse

Rhabdomys pumilio : Common name - Four-striped grass mouse. Streepmuis in Afrikaans

A Striped Field mouse in my garden. He's quite tame as I often put out seeds for them, and here I was within a meter from him. He was actually very disgusted, drying himself off as I had accidentally gotten him wet while watering the garden with the hosepipe.

 

I tolerate these lovely little creatures (unlike rats!) as they are totally harmless and very rarely venture into the house. I've only ever seen this pair in my garden and was actually hoping to see little ones scurrying about!

Rhabdomys is a largely Southern African genus of muroid rodents slightly larger than house mice. 

 

Here they are snacking on some sunflower seeds I put out for them in my garden. 

The Striped Mouse, so named because of the four longitudinal black stripes down its back, is an opportunistic omnivore, and has a varied diet. In certain areas they are mainly granivorous, while in others they may eat more plant material than seeds. They also enjoy a wide variety of other vegetable matter and insects.

The striped mouse helps to pollinate many Protea species, as pollen clings to its head while it is feeding. When the mouse moves off to feed on other neighboring flowers of the same species, it carries the pollen with it, thus assisting in the fertilization of these flowers. They normally excavate a burrow at the base of a grass thicket, ensuring that the entrance is well hidden, and lining the chambers of their burrows with soft, leafy debris; alternatively, they construct a ground-level nest under cover of dense stands of tall grass.

 

Striped Mouse forage by day, particularly in the early morning and late afternoon, and are often seen among the tall grasses growing on the perimeter of cultivated land. In central Africa, where striped mice are also found, they breed throughout the year, but in the south the breeding season is usually confined to the summer months (September to May).

During the breeding season the adult females appear to be territorial, with limited home ranges which probably overlap the large home ranges of the males. There are from 2 - 9 young per litter.
Some Info from "EcoTravel"

Location : My garden in Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa Camera : Fuji FinePix 2800Zoom 

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Roosters really do know what time it is

My rooster Artemis announcing the start of day 

Normally, at 4am like clock-work, I'm awakened by Artemis announcing the start of another day. In summer it can be as early as 3am! This sets off ALL Solly's roosters and I can assure you, NOTHING can sleep through that racket! Their crowing has now set MY internal clock and I'm normally awake just before the crowing starts.

The rooster's morning cock-a-doodle-doo is driven by an internal clock, finds new research, suggesting that male chickens really know the time of day.

The study, detailed in the journal Current Biology, found that roosters put under constant light conditions will still crow at the crack of dawn.

Past studies have found that a myriad of animal behaviors are driven by an internal clock: at night, a dip in insulin causes humans to process food more slowly, and even blind cave fish use a circadian clock to tell time.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo' symbolizes the break of dawn in many countries," said study author Takashi Yoshimura of Nagoya University, in a statement. "But it wasn't clear whether crowing is under the control of a biological clock or is simply a response to external stimuli."

Because stimuli throughout the day — such as car headlights — will set off a rooster's crow at any time, it was also possible that increasing light was the trigger for the cock's crows.

To find out Yoshimura and his colleagues put 40 roosters in a setting with constant light, then recorded when they crowed.

Sure enough, the chickens crowed at daybreak regardless of the light conditions. The roosters also crowed at other times of day and in response to light and the crows of their fellow chickens, but those behaviours were much stronger at daybreak. The findings suggest that an internal circadian clock, rather than external conditions, drive the behavior.

Read more at Mother Nature Network

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Sometimes, do nothing

A simple life has a different meaning and a different value for every person. For me, it means eliminating all but the essential, eschewing chaos for peace, and spending my time doing what’s important to me.

It means getting rid of many of the things you do so you can spend time with people you love and do the things you love. It means getting rid of the clutter so you are left with only that which gives you value.

Albert Einstein said, "Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better." Nature does no more or no less than what is necessary. Minimalist living helps create a simple, inspired and uncomplicated life.

In our daily lives, we often rush through tasks, trying to get them done, trying to finish as much as we can each day. We surround ourselves with more and more stuff and our lives become way too full.

It doesn’t have to be that way. It’s possible to live a simpler life by just sitting back and deciding what is important to you and concentrate solely on that. Sometimes, do nothing.

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Farm Talk - Robin vs Wagtail

Camera: Fuji FinePix 2800ZOOM

I posted this article before, in Sept 2008, don't know how many people would go that far back in the archives, but at the moment I've got a very similar scenario going on between my Robins and Cape Wagtails, vying for the best nesting spot in my Fan Palm tree, so I thought I would just publish it again. Luckily, as yet, there have been no fatalities so I'm hoping they'll be able to sort out their differences.

Up until the end of April 2003, we had lived on our smallholding (8,5ha) in Tarlton since 1975. Over the years, I had established a lush garden with numerous indigenous trees and various types of ivies, one of which covered the kitchen wall on the South side of the house and in which the Wagtails made their home. I also had a resident pair of Cape Robins, nesting in the ivy creeping up a dead tree trunk opposite the Wagtails. I dearly loved my Cape Robins, who would take mince out of my hands at the kitchen window, but I must inform you that they are utter terrorists as far as the Wagtails are concerned!

Over a period of 2 weeks, I watched in fascination as both the Robin and Wagtail parents fed their chicks. (After a long, careful search I located the Wagtail nest in the ivy on the kitchen wall – the Robins’ nest was much lower opposite them and more obvious). Both sets of parents scurried hurriedly for the available cache of insects and the Robins, who would dive-bomb and chase them at every opportunity, constantly harassed worms, with one hitch – the Wagtails.



Then, one morning, I heard the Wagtails’ panicky cries and to my utter horror, found the Robin plucking the Wagtail chicks from their nest, dropping them, bleeding and fatally injured. The gentler Wagtails could do nothing but scurry helplessly about. I tried to rescue the unfortunate Wagtail chicks, but to no avail – they were already dying.

The only conclusion I could come to was that the Robins regarded the kitchen window and my mince meals as their domain and begrudged the Wagtails being anywhere in the vicinity!

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