Backyard Breakfast

Sometimes the simple things, those close to home, can be most appealing. I am not a fan of pets, and having been raised on the farm, do not want animals living inside my house. But I do enjoy wildlife very much.

In our backyard, I have reserved one section to stay "natural", that is, desert sand and desert plants. On that little patch of ground I keep several water bowls, and a block of birdseed. Plants include creosote bush, yucca and several kinds of cactus

I also have a birdbath and three hummingbird feeders. Before we discovered the seed blocks, we sprinkled bird seed on the ground. That attracted no less than 100 doves each day.
We have three kinds of doves: mourning doves, white-winged doves and small, Inca doves. They scarfed that birdseed in about ten minutes, leaving none for other birds. For some reason, the doves cannot devour seed in the blocks so quickly, and one block will last for a few weeks.

This ever present source of seed results in several covey of Gambel's quail spending most of their time in our yard. And there are lots of small sparrow sized birds (house finches, etc.) who are ever present.

In addition to all the birds, my little patch of desert is also home to one small turtle. I have not checked his pedigree, but calling it a box turtle is probably close.

This morning I was entertained by these various creatures enjoying their breakfast. First to appear was a roadrunner. Unlike the cartoon version, real roadrunners are not so innocent. This one eased close to the seed block where a group of sparrow-sized birds were picking at the seed. In a flash he snagged one bird. For several minutes he held it in his ample beak, slamming it against the ground. I thought he was dislodging feathers and expected him to eat the bird hawk style, by holding it with one foot and picking the meat off with his beak. Nope. I think the slamming was to make certain it was dead, because his next act was to swallow it whole, feet, feathers and all.

He tried several times to catch another bird, but they had become too cautious. Roadrunners also eat small lizards and they love raw hamburger.

We put some dry bread near the seed block this morning. Dry bread always attracts grackles who pick up every chunk they can and put it in the water bowls. They dip the bread repeatedly, then just go get another piece. I never see them eat the wet bread and the next time I fill the bowls they are always half full of soggy bread, which I dump.

Our little box turtle crawled up near our back door. My wife cut a piece of cucumber into small slices for him. He loved the cucumber and ate it all.

While all this was going on, a group of quail ran across the yard and attacked the seed block. Quail are interesting birds. While they are good fliers, they prefer to be on the ground. That is also true of the roadrunner. He can run very fast and usually will not fly unless threatened.

I often think of the drama that takes place in every little ecosystem. Be it a patch of woods, a pond, or a rocky mountain slope, it's wild occupants are in a day to day struggle to find food for themselves, and to prevent their becoming food for someone else.

Plants are not exempt from this struggle. Consequently, nearly every desert plant has thorns of some kind. Over the eons, it is the thorniest plants which have survived.

Joan of Arc, Where are you?

I held my tongue during the recent protests in France... the ones where French youth were protesting a proposed law that said they could, indeed, be fired from their job.

During those protests a lot of Americans were scratching their heads. To illustrate our inability to understand the position the young French were taking, let me recall an incident from the mid-1960s. At that time a group of Kansas farm boys went to the Soviet Union to participate in a cultural exchange.

When they returned they were asked for their impression of Soviet farming methods. The one story they all wanted to tell, and laugh about, was that there was a five o'clock whistle on the collective farms. When the whistle blew... everyone quit for the day and went home.

What made it so funny to them was that baled hay, or other crops, were often left in the fields when rain was forecast. On their Kansas farms, as on farms all over the United States, farmers know that hay bales left in the rain will likey grow mold and be ruined. If you have baled your hay in the afternoon and rain is likely, you continue working to get that hay picked up and hauled to the barn, regardless of the hour. I personally have hoisted bales of hay onto a horse-drawn or tractor-drawn wagon late into the night.

And, when you finally do crawl in bed and you hear thunder and hear rain pounding down, you have a wonderful sense of pride that you did your job so well your crop was not destroyed.

It seems the French youth are being denied the opportunity to feel pride in their work. In fact, it seems they are being taught not to be proud of their work. The lesson is, just put in your time and draw your pay. If you quit too early... if you screw up... don't worry, you will not be punished... you cannot be fired!

To me, this is anti-French. France has a proud history. They did not become the nation they are by shirking their duty, and letting the government protect them when they failed. The heroes of France's past were the kind of people who did get their hay out of the field. Whatever the task - whomever the foe, they persevered and they triumphed.

Now, one has to wonder if this new generation of Frenchmen will ever again triumph over a powerful adversary... be the battle economic, scientific or military.

One can only hope that the genes of the great French heroes are still present in some French youth, and will some day make their presence known.