The sounds of life drifting in through open windows… it has been a long time. There’s birdsong aplenty here by Cold Swamp. So much sweet twittering of finches, the odd, buzzing song of the redwing blackbirds, the piercing call of the hawks, it’s all lovely. The global pandemic is changing the way I look at things, at lots of things, maybe everything. I hear kids out playing with siblings in nearby yards, dogs barking in the distance, traffic going by. I love the sound of the wind in the trees.

I left the windows open all night last night. Our dog was lying on our bed when the coyotes started howling off somewhere. She was all ears for their moonlit concert and so was I. She was alert and tense, focused on her job of defending the borders of our pack’s territory no doubt, but I feel a strange peace hearing their wild calls. The coyote’s song calms and soothes me. I live inside strong walls I am not in danger. I find it comforting that these creatures survive and thrive nearby. It’s nice to live in a place with a semi-functioning ecosystem. Coyotes help keep some kind of balance by hunting deer, rabbits, mice and such and they are needed. Our coyotes are amazing. Around here, before the gray wolves were killed off, the coyotes and gray wolves interbred preserving something of the ancient bloodline of those wolves in their craftier, more fertile cousins. So our coyotes are bigger than some, sturdier, stronger, but they are very much as clever and enduring as any others of their kind. I love them.

But I love almost all animals. I love the little songbirds and the hawks, the turkey vultures and partridges, I love the chipmunks, squirrels and rabbits and even the damn mice that invade my home. I want to live in balance with the world around me. I want there to be space here for all of us. As humans we need to be less greedy about space, we need to find ways to live with the wild creatures around us, they are our kin, they are necessary. I love raccoons, groundhogs, and possums. Bless the tick-eating possums till the end of all! I love the snakes and salamanders, the cute little tree frogs and all their cousins. I love the snapping turtles that wander through my yard and the fierce fisher-cats in the woods. My son and I watched a fisher cat cross our yard a few months back, it was gorgeous, large and fierce, I love it here. We get to see so much wildlife in our own yard. I’ve watched wild turkeys strut up our driveway, deer browsing on the edge of the swamp, hawks and vultures circling overhead, and all manner of birds and rodents flourishing.

So you will never catch me poisoning my yard to deal with pests, you will never see me pulling up the dandelions that feed the bees, what you will see is me planting my feet and arguing strenuously that the only mice or ants that need killing are the ones invading the walls and pantry and that none of the wild things that live outside are doing anything other than what they should. If the rabbits and chipmunks eat everything I plant? Well, that’s on me, besides I am a terrible gardener anyway, at least I’m providing appetizers for someone. If moles and voles and whatever else make a mess of the lawn? I never wanted the lawn anyway. They are terrible ecologically and ours is a crazy mix of grasses, moss and weeds, it’s kind of cool actually. I’m ok with protecting the house and its contents but if a pine marten wants to tunnel around the old stump? Tunnel away little one. Eat mice, grow fat.

I’m listening to a woodpecker rapping away at a hollow tree now. It’s a far lovelier sound that the noise of the cars going by or the power tools in the distance. I think I can hear some ducks out there in the swamp, maybe one day soon I’ll hear the geese returning from their annual vacation. I’ll just be here, quarantining, listening to crazy-quilt symphony of life where the wild things are.