Welcome to The World of Anne, better known as "The Gods Are Bored!" It's been a tough 22 hours in the wildlife management area, let me tell you.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm going to write about my beautiful little piece of property in the Appalachian Mountains. But actually I am referring to my 1/8 acre in sunny (today) Haterfield, New Jersey. There's far more avian and mammalian wildlife in my little suburban back yard than there is on the four acres of woods I own in Bedford County, PA.
We're not talking about insects and mushrooms. Just animals and birds.
But it was a super tough night for the mice, voles, rabbits, raccoons, opossums, squirrels, chipmunks, groundhogs, and feral cats. Also put upon were the blue jays, cardinals, tufted titmice, chickadees, nuthatches, wrens, sparrows, finches, robins, woodpeckers, catbirds, and mourning doves. The refuge took a beating.
Yesterday, just as I was pulling my Fourth of July hotdogs off the grill, it began to rain. The sky was roiling. I took myself inside, and Mr. J and I ate dinner as the rain got heavier and heavier.
Then all Hell broke loose. We had hurricane conditions for approximately 15 minutes. The wind blew the outdoor furniture over, and projectiles began hitting the house. It was a white-out of rain. Mr. J and I just looked at each other as if to say, "Should we hoof it to the basement?" Then the power flickered, and the storm ratcheted into even a higher pitch.
Gradually conditions improved. Mr. J stepped outside and righted the furniture, declaring that the damage "wasn't bad at all." But he was only looking at the 1/8 acre Johnson Memorial Wildlife Management Area. He didn't stroll down the street.
I was the one who strolled down the street, about an hour later. And the whole landscape was upside down. There was a downed wire sparking in the next block, and at least a dozen trees uprooted and blown over. Neighbors were already pulling huge limbs out of their back yards. And I couldn't see, but it felt like a whole tree had fallen across the street, on one of the Millionaire McMansions. My own yard is littered with branches from the park that is a block away.
I'm just back from a longer stroll, which I took because all the streets are closed and I needed to get downtown for a lunch engagement. There are trees down everywhere. A local constable that I spoke to said that, in addition to the wind damage, many cars were swept into flash flooding, as high as four feet in some places.
This was a pretty localized weather event, so all the tree companies in the county -- and every electric company truck as well -- descended on Haterfield. The din around here first thing in the morning was deafening. They're still sawing and shredding in the block behind mine. It was completely impassible.
My question is, where do all the critters go? There aren't as many birds or mammals in the Wildlife Management Area today. Well, the squirrels are here in force, but otherwise it's critter quiet.
Why have I never thought of this before? What happens to a one-ounce finch in a wind storm that knocks over 200-year-old trees?
Oh! I hear them! The finches (some of them) are back on the bird feeder! I wish I could put my question straight to them. I think I'll ask around for a bored deity that can converse with wildlife, because I really am curious.
Where I live -- and especially in these climate-challenged times -- a true hurricane is not out of the question. Judging by what I have seen today, wowsa. Hope it never happens.
So far as I know, distant rural Anneland is fine. Four acres, one chipmunk who looked desperate to relocate.
If you know what happens to birds during hurricanes, please tell me. I could ask Chat GPT, but it isn't trustworthy, and you are.
