There’s Something Out There
First things first… Here’s a tip of the cap to all who entered the “Give the Latin Name to That Bird!” contest. And let’s all give Gerry a “virtual” round of applause for winning said contest! Gerry’s entry follows…
What we apparently have here is the "Rocketus-J-Squirrelum Vespucciland" as this little critter is found all over North America.
So now it’s official… The “bird” below is a “Gordon Alan Pterodactyl Squirrel”, ("Rocketus-J-Squirrelum Vespucciland"), and Gerry's Duncraft feeder is on the way.
Onward…
The tales that follow are going to sound particularly strange, but they’re all true. I‘ve hesitated to speak of these incidents because I was afraid that I‘d be called a nut. No more. (And no, I don‘t wear an aluminum-foil hat, and I don‘t think that there are aliens in Area 51.)
The first story is described in a chilling account by the wife. Understand that she likes to leave the house just at daybreak to wait for her ride and listen to the birds sing their morning songs… Her email description follows verbatim:
Just wanted to fill you in on something that happened this morning as I went out to wait for the carpool.
As I went out the door and down the steps, I heard a howl coming from up the road (towards the Water Dept). One howl. NOT a coyote. NOT a dog. It was a wolf, I’m sure of it.
Stood waiting for a few minutes, listening to the birds wake up. Another single howl. Then a woman screaming, and a small dog barking and yipping. More screaming, more yipping, sounded like a few more dogs joined in. It was all far enough away that I was not worried for myself (but it was definitely creepy), but I did call 911 on my cell phone and let the police know what I had heard. Gave them my name and address.
This isn’t the first time she’s run across this thing… One night Suzie and I went out to the attached garage to work on a boat and we both heard it howl right outside. Needless to say, we made a hasty retreat back into the house. Whatever that thing was, it was big. We checked with some neighbors, and one woman heard it a quarter of a mile away.
The final story takes place roughly 12 years ago… The wife and I had arrived home on the Cape after a long week living and working in the corporate world of Boston. It was a Friday night in Autumn, and we decided to take out one of our favorite rowboats and explore Hinckley’s Pond in Pleasant Lake, Harwich. (Understand that I grew up traipsing all over the swamps, bogs, woods, harbors, beaches, and ponds of Cape Cod at all hours, and felt completely comfortable.) In particular, I wanted to check out the northern shore opposite of our launching point. It was probably 10 pm when we landed the boat and looked about. Nothing much was there - a couple of old abandoned summer cabins, a small cranberry bog, woods, a small dirt road back to civilization, and a lot of darkness. So we hopped back into the boat and shoved off. We were no more than 50 feet off shore when something charged us. I remember several distinct impressions:
I approached nature secure in the knowledge and experience that there was nothing on Cape Cod that was going to attack me. That was hubristic.
Put another way, when you step out of your house and enter the “great outdoors“ of your backyard, you need to keep your eyes open. The rare threat may be a mountain lion in California, an alligator in Florida, a wolf (or chupacabra) on Cape Cod, or a thief anywhere… But wherever, folks should understand a harmless activity like listening to the early-morning bird songs (or even just feeding the birds) can result in a 911 call.
To borrow from “Sgt. Phil Esterhaus” (Michael Conrad on “Hill Street Blues”), “Let’s be careful out there.” After all, sooner or later, there might well be “something out there.”
Now, lets go feed those birds!
See you by the feeder,
CapeCodAlan
P.S. As always, please feel free to comment, especially if you have any explanation concerning the stories above.
What we apparently have here is the "Rocketus-J-Squirrelum Vespucciland" as this little critter is found all over North America.
So now it’s official… The “bird” below is a “Gordon Alan Pterodactyl Squirrel”, ("Rocketus-J-Squirrelum Vespucciland"), and Gerry's Duncraft feeder is on the way.
Onward…
The tales that follow are going to sound particularly strange, but they’re all true. I‘ve hesitated to speak of these incidents because I was afraid that I‘d be called a nut. No more. (And no, I don‘t wear an aluminum-foil hat, and I don‘t think that there are aliens in Area 51.)
The first story is described in a chilling account by the wife. Understand that she likes to leave the house just at daybreak to wait for her ride and listen to the birds sing their morning songs… Her email description follows verbatim:
Just wanted to fill you in on something that happened this morning as I went out to wait for the carpool.
As I went out the door and down the steps, I heard a howl coming from up the road (towards the Water Dept). One howl. NOT a coyote. NOT a dog. It was a wolf, I’m sure of it.
Stood waiting for a few minutes, listening to the birds wake up. Another single howl. Then a woman screaming, and a small dog barking and yipping. More screaming, more yipping, sounded like a few more dogs joined in. It was all far enough away that I was not worried for myself (but it was definitely creepy), but I did call 911 on my cell phone and let the police know what I had heard. Gave them my name and address.
This isn’t the first time she’s run across this thing… One night Suzie and I went out to the attached garage to work on a boat and we both heard it howl right outside. Needless to say, we made a hasty retreat back into the house. Whatever that thing was, it was big. We checked with some neighbors, and one woman heard it a quarter of a mile away.
The final story takes place roughly 12 years ago… The wife and I had arrived home on the Cape after a long week living and working in the corporate world of Boston. It was a Friday night in Autumn, and we decided to take out one of our favorite rowboats and explore Hinckley’s Pond in Pleasant Lake, Harwich. (Understand that I grew up traipsing all over the swamps, bogs, woods, harbors, beaches, and ponds of Cape Cod at all hours, and felt completely comfortable.) In particular, I wanted to check out the northern shore opposite of our launching point. It was probably 10 pm when we landed the boat and looked about. Nothing much was there - a couple of old abandoned summer cabins, a small cranberry bog, woods, a small dirt road back to civilization, and a lot of darkness. So we hopped back into the boat and shoved off. We were no more than 50 feet off shore when something charged us. I remember several distinct impressions:
- It was growling and snarling. It wasn’t barking or howling, it was definitely growling and snarling.
- Judging by the sound it made as it pawed the beach, it was big.
- I was Olympic-grade sculling material.
I approached nature secure in the knowledge and experience that there was nothing on Cape Cod that was going to attack me. That was hubristic.
Put another way, when you step out of your house and enter the “great outdoors“ of your backyard, you need to keep your eyes open. The rare threat may be a mountain lion in California, an alligator in Florida, a wolf (or chupacabra) on Cape Cod, or a thief anywhere… But wherever, folks should understand a harmless activity like listening to the early-morning bird songs (or even just feeding the birds) can result in a 911 call.
To borrow from “Sgt. Phil Esterhaus” (Michael Conrad on “Hill Street Blues”), “Let’s be careful out there.” After all, sooner or later, there might well be “something out there.”
Now, lets go feed those birds!
See you by the feeder,
CapeCodAlan
P.S. As always, please feel free to comment, especially if you have any explanation concerning the stories above.
Comments
Having been on Cape Cod a number of times in my youth, I can imagine what it must have been like to go through what Alan mentions. Living in Florida, we have all kinds of exotic birds, some native, some are pets that have been released and have managed to not only survive, but thrive. Which brings me to a similar tale from down here. Note: While I don't doubt CapeCodAlan's story one bit, feel free to be skeptical about this one:
A neighbor of mine tells of growing up in Ocala where there is rumored to be a local legend called "Big Bird"... a huge bird, allegedly known to be able to swoop down and snatch small children and pets. According to my neighbor: "I never believed in this myth. But early one Saturday morning a few years back, I was home alone. The wife was visiting her sister. I was making a gourmet breakfast of coffee and toast when I heard an awful clatter out by the bird feeder.
Thinking that the neighbor's cat was once again trying to terrorize our flighted friends, I stormed out onto the patio. There, standing upright with his feet on the ground, was the biggest bird I've ever seen in my life! I'm six foot two and this creature was all of that. My sudden arrival on the scene didn't startle it one bit! It merely turned so it was facing me. It had bashed in the side of the bird feeder (which hung from the patio wall) with his beak and was helping itself to the feed which had just been filled the day before. He stopped for a moment, looked at me, then went back to eating.
I surmised his wing span to be about 12 feet, although the wings were folded at the time. His talons looked as if they could turn my sedan into a convertible. I stood frozen in fear for what seemed like much too long. Once again, it stopped feeding long enough to size me up as a threat. I slowly moved back towards the doorway back into the house. The bird turned back and gobbled up the last of the seed.
Then it hit me. 'Take a photo, you fool!' It would be the first time someone had ever captured the legendary 'Big Bird' on film. The photo alone would be worth a fortune.
As if he could understand me, I shouted out to the monstrous creature, 'Wait! Don't move! I want to get my camera, please... don't leave just yet!' With that, the bird turned toward me. It was clear that it was not happy. It took one step towards me, flapped it's wings a bit and then in a voice that sounded like it came from the depths of Hades, said, 'Are you NUTS? I've got to get out of here before BIG BIRD gets here!'
At least, that's MY story (and I'm sticking to it!)."
Posted by: Gerry Ashley | February 3, 2007 1:35 PM