Gift of the porcupine

This post is just a wee P.S. to the porcupine stories.  The video shows the critter coming and going in this one place, so I thought I’d take a look to see where her den might be and whether there were any interesting “left-behinds.” And sure enough! Two small quills! I will return to this spot often to see if she leaves or loses any others.  Very cool, if you ask me.

quills2

At the base of the big old tree she hugged(?), there is a hole.  Perhaps that’s where she disappears to.  Actually there are two or three holes–front door, back door, side door?

Porcupine tries to climb the big tree.

The previous video of porcupine included a couple of clips where the critter seemed really to enjoy climbing or hanging on to the small persimmon tree trunk. Elise wondered why she chose the smaller tree. I dunno. But I do have this one clip where she seemed to try climbing the big tree–or maybe was just giving it a hug–or something. Anyway here’s that clip, 4 times over, so’s you can get good look at it. Just seems that big ol’ tree isn’t nearly as much fun as the persimmon. Funny thing, isn’t it.

Porcupine revisited

One day in October 2015 by sheer luck I set up the crittercam near the home/den/hideout/hangout of the porcupine. This is one odd critter–awkward, bumbling, stumbling, mumbling, and, it seems, quite fond of the trunk of a small persimmon tree, as you will see. If you have the volume turned up, you might be able to hear it muttering. And if you watch closely, you might catch a glimpse of the sole of its right hind foot: it looks like a soft moccasin. This critter doesn’t look very sure-footed or familiar with the territory as it stumbles through the leaf litter, twigs, and smilax vine. But it is sure-footed enough to cross the ravine and then climb the fence to the orchard to munch on the bark of the plum trees. There are plenty of signs of that!

Enjoy the porcupine adventures:

Our Porcupine

When we first saw the porcupine that day it was trying to climb over the fence from the orchard into the backyard, we were amazed! Astonished! And uncertain that we’d ever see it again. (This is pretty much how I feel about every unfamiliar creature we glimpse: the fox, for example, or the Axis deer.) These glimpses of the porcupine at night in the ravine lead us to believe that it may actually live here on these happy acres. Woohoooo! We’re having some fun now!

Enjoy these short clips. If you have the volume turned up, you might hear the odd noises it makes…. Great, huh?

About our names for this blog

Sisterwild?  This is an old name we made up years ago when imagining ourselves with a bit of land near Sisterfarm.   Emphasis on the “wild,” as a counterbalance to the orderly and organized way our girlfriends arranged their lives and land at Sisterfarm.  It was, we said, the name for a mythical home we hoped one day to enjoy in the Hill Country.  After a while, we abandoned the name, thinking it too evocative of a different lifestyle, one we would not want to be identified with.

But here we are, many years later, enjoying as our own that precious piece of Texas Hill Country once known and celebrated as Sisterfarm.  And so our playful tease comes back to us but with a slightly different meaning this time.  It is a kind of homage to Carol and Elise, our sisters who created a place, a space, where women of many different persuasions and practices could meet and share a kind of sisterhood. A kinship with one another and with the earth.

So we will lay claim to “Sister” as a way to express our gratitude to our girlfriends for all they brought to us and created for us and shared with us in their life here at Sisterfarm.

But we have adopted this place and let it grow wild with “weeds”–native grasses and forbs and brush of all kinds.  No orderly planting of winter, spring, summer, fall crops here.  No planning ahead and ordering of seeds, no drawing out the garden plots, no figuring what will live and thrive next to what.  No, it’s all just wild for now.  What grows stays.  What dies and dries goes to the compost bins or simply composts in situ.  You get the picture, right?

So you might think of it as Sisterfarm-gone-wild…Sister-wild for short.  Sisterwildness. Sisterwild.

 

Sideoats grama in flower, summer 2012

And you might be wondering about “Bouteloua Times” and how that fits in.  Or what the heck “bouteloua” is!  Bouteloua is a genus of native grasses.  In fact, the state grass is Bouteloua curtipendula or, as it is more commonly known, sideoats grama.  And we are really excited about discovering all the native grasses that are growing so wildly all over this land.  Sideoats grama, hairy grama, switchgrass, little bluestem, Eastern gamagrass, cupgrass, silky bluestem, Lindheimer rosette grass, Lindheimer muhly, seep muhly, purple three-awn and Texas three-awn, and a zillion others we’ve yet to identify.  (And don’t for a moment think that just because I can write all those names of grasses that I can actually identify all of them!  That is a work in progress.)

Bouteloua Times is our way to report on the wildness growing here–grasses, yes, and also wildflowers, spiders, birds, insects, trees, critters big and small–natives or transplants to this land, making life here so extraordinarily interesting and exquisitely beautiful and endlessly surprising.  I mean, c’mon!–a porcupine at the back gate?!

That’s the life and “bouteloua times” at Sisterwild.

Sittin’ in the living room, minding my own business…

…and What In The World Is THAT!? I call out to Bibi.  What??! she answers with the same tone of urgent befuddlement as I feel.

What the heck is that?!?

There, climbing on the gate to the orchard!  What is it? I am clicking away with my camera, hoping I have it set to capture what I’m seeing.  I am not prepared for these shots. What the heck is it?

It is climbing the gate, making several unsuccessful tries to get over it, sometimes sitting on the ground as if puzzling out what to do next. I still don’t know what we’re looking at.

Shortly it gives up and follows the fenceline.  I rush to get shoes on and run outside to see if I can get a closer look. When I get to the orchard, the creature is nowhere in sight.  But then Bibi, standing on the deck, sees that it has gotten over the fence at a tree and is climbing down the tree beside the little shed that used to shelter guinea hens.  Slowly I turn…tiptoeing so as not to frighten the thing off.

What the heck is it? #2

I get to where Bibi is telling me it is…I look through the chainlink fence and here is what I see looking back at me.  What the heck is it?!

Very soon it scoots under the shed and out of sight.

I head into the house to consult my Texas Parks & Wildlife pdf about Texas critters.  There is nothing in there that looks like this!  It is not a possum, a skunk, a raccoon–the usual suspects; it is not a ringtail cat, a nutria, or a mink (who knew we have minks in Texas?)….

It’s time to google creatures we are unfamiliar with–badger (nope), muskrat (no), porcupine….  A porcupine??!  Ya gotta be kidding!  The only time we’ve ever seen a porcupine is one summer in Maine about 25 years ago, and that was only a glimpse as it waddled off into the forest on big soft feet (or so they seemed to us at the time), big quill-covered back swaying to and fro as it went.  This did not seem to be a likely answer.  Do we even have porcupines in Texas?  (Better tell the Parks & Wildlife folks to amend their booklet.)

Later I slowly approach the little shed and see that the critter is still there.  Maybe this is where he/she lives.  Maybe this creature explains the mysterious disappearance of hundreds of apples in the orchard a few weeks ago.  Maybe there are lots of porcupines in these woods.  Is that possible?

Is this a porcupine?

He/she would have been sleeping except for my intrusions.  Here’s another shot.  It’s a cute little thing.

I’ll need to do a bit of research to learn more about this creature. I remain amazed and awed by the encounter.  I feel very lucky to have made its acquaintance in the way that I did:  I’ve seen photos of dogs that were really unlucky in their porcupine encounters!

More photos to follow–somewhat blurry and dark–of its attempts to get over the fence.

1/28/2013: The photos of our first views of the porcupine: