Freebasing Solitude

in my disney princess era

I came to the woods for some peace and quiet to study for the GRE.

After nearly a month, I started to feel like I was freebasing solitude. Like, maybe I shouldn’t be hitting the stuff quite this hard? Things were getting a little weird.

But last Saturday, an injured bat landed on the patio. Disappointed that—in the words of my friend Mike “is fren shaped!” but alas, as one of the few remaining reservoir species for rabies, “is not fren”—I settled for 15 videos and a Google tab.

I know more about the western small-footed myotis than I ever thought possible.

Some key points:

• “Zorro” Face Mask: Easily identified by a striking black mask that covers their nose, chin, and ears, which contrasts with their light brown or yellowish-brown fur.

• Tiny Feet: As their name suggests… I wouldn’t date them.

• Thirsty Drinker: These bats can drink while flying and are strong enough to take off directly from the surface of the water!

The little guy wedged himself into the rocks and made a brief appearance when I came to check on him, but otherwise, stayed hidden.

On Sunday, the geese that have been hanging out at our ponds for the last handful of years were honking up a storm and I ran out to the front porch to see if I could catch them coming in for a landing, but they were off in the woods, one on the ground, one circling above, both going absolutely nuts which seemed a little strange, but I got distracted by what I thought was a fledgling trying to take off from the ground.

It was another bat. In the middle of the afternoon.

What is going on at this house?

Two grounded bats in as many days seemed weird. I went back to the patio to make sure it wasn’t the same bat, but sure enough, patio bat was hanging on the chimney grooming himself. Huh.

After dinner on Sunday night, I noticed the geese in the grass by the upper pond. As I looked closer, I saw that there was a gosling hopping around! Just one seemed strange for geese, usually there are at least five or six. But as I stood there watching, Mother Goose stood up, and all her hatchlings were underneath her—seven in total. I guess the ruckus in the woods had been the parents defending the nest!

She took them for a swim, and they ate bugs along the gravel beach. There was a weird flying ant hatch that night, and they were snatching the ants right out of the air.

By the time I went to bed, they were bedded down on the berm between the two ponds, a highly defensible position with a clear sightline of approaching predators in all directions. (I now have separate goose and bat Google tabs going.)

When I left for the gym on Monday morning, the geese—all 7 goslings still present and accounted for—were hanging out on the beach. By the time I got home, they were nowhere to be seen, but the resident Mallards were chilling and nothing seemed amiss.

That evening, I noticed a raven hanging around. A third Google tab informed me that ravens are notorious for stealing goslings, usually working in pairs with one distracting the parents while the other swoops in for a baby that may have strayed a few feet too far away.

I ran out to the pond yelling and flailing my arms to scare him off. (Dad: if you’re checking the Ring cams, just don’t ask.)

The mallards were unbothered. A bat was swooping around eating the bugs coming off the water.

This morning (Tuesday), still no sign of the geese, but the raven brought a friend and I have a growing pile of rocks at the front and back doors. The mallards are MIA, the bluebirds are pretty upset that a squirrel has taken up residence in the birdhouse, and I got bit by one of the flying ants.

All that is to say: I came out here specifically to be alone, and was really committed to the bit, until a 5g bat landed on my patio, and I’m now more invested in the drama on the ponds than the last season of Drive to Survive. My Google search history looks like Steve Irwin borrowed my laptop, and I’ve got serious opinions about raven behavior.

Despite the excitement, my quant score is up ten points, my throwing arm is getting stronger, and I’ve officially entered my Disney princess era.

Turns out, things are a lot less lonely when you go outside…

Touch grass, babes.

P.S. As I was about to hit publish, there was a disturbance on the pond. Unfortunately not the geese, but the mallards are back — the original pair plus two uninvited drakes and a situation developing that I can only describe as extremely dramatic. Google tab #4 has entered the chat.