Ah, the wild life. And the wildlife.
Just past midnight a week or so ago, my neighbors, Merle and Lynn¾a normally staid and quiet Canadian couple¾exited their travel trailer with all manner of whooping and thumping, raising an unholy ruckus that awakened everyone in our corner of the RV park. Fearing I might be missing a good party, I stuck my head out and asked what the fuss was all about.
Turns out that two javelina were under the Canadians’ trailer, rooting around in the bags of aluminum empties the Canadians had stored there. The javelina (HAV-ah-lee-nah), small, hairy wild hogs also known as peccary, scampered off, leaving only their musty scent on the still desert air.
Even though we are surrounded by Tucson, our wild enclave along the river continues to support a population of commonly rural residents. Besides the wild pigs, solitary jack rabbits and herds of quail, the coyotes continue their evening serenades, siren songs to pet dogs who sometimes end up on the coyotes’ menu. Then the other afternoon I spotted a road runner that was so tall I wasn’t at first sure what was speeding across the sand. His legs a blur, the spindly bird gave credence to the image of one of my all-time favorite cartoon characters. Made me smile.
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