Updated on August 13, 2001

Living in the Woods

Whenever I would hear someone say they "lived in the woods," I would envision a log cabin set deep in a dark forest, at the end of a ramshackle, winding dirt road that ran for miles. Isolated, with no neighbors for miles and the forest animals as your only companions, the idea of living in the woods always held a certain allure. Circumstances, however, have kept me from ever attempting such a living arrangement - living in the woods required a bit more sacrifice than I was willing to forego.

Or so I thought. While I haven't escaped to the cabin deep in the woods, I have, instead, expanded my vision of what constitutes "living in the woods." In particular, I have withdrawn "isolation" as one of the criteria. Over the course of the past year, I have come to realize that my new house is, indeed, in the woods. Yes, I have neighbors relatively close by. And no, the dirt road leading to the house doesn't run for miles. But the house is surrounded by what can be termed a classic northern forest. Towering oaks abound, punctuated by various species of pine, a few spindly maples, visually stunning white birches, ash, and probably dozens of more tree species that I haven't taken the time to identify. The forest floor is covered with ferns, some growing to upwards of five feet high. Where sun peeks through, tangles of raspberry and blackberry bushes creep about. The rocks and boulders that constitute the forest floor are covered with moss.

And, perhaps most importantly, this surrounding forest isn't an isolated patch of green. There are plenty of other homesites around, but by-and-large it can be said that the forest is punctuated by the occasional homesite rather than the other way around. Having been plunked down into the middle of this natural habitat for the last year, we have had the pleasure of observing a rather diverse collection of animals go about their daily lives. Between what we've observed right outside our door, and what we've come across while out running early in the morning, one could say that we have our very own nature sanctuary. To wit, the following are some of the things we've seen in the short time we've been here.

The Beasts

Late this spring, we were awakened by a noise that I can best describe as what one might expect a pterodactyl to sound like. A piercing, screeching noise that seemed to fall somewhere between bird-produced and mammal-produced. This summer, the sound returned, occurring almost nightly. My suspicion on what might be making this eyrie noise was confirmed one day as I sat in my home office and watched outside as a fox and her kit made their way up from the pond and started across the driveway. The dog, asleep in the garage through most of this, suddenly became aware of the visitors and took chase. "Mom" fox immediately let out the pterodactyl screech to warn her baby, and the baby ran off into the woods.

Surprisingly, fox sightings have been frequent. I used to thing they were nocturnal creatures, but we've seen them at all times of day. We first noticed them last fall when three of them were seen bounding across the lawn. We didn't see much of them during the winter, but once the snow melted, they were often out and about. In early spring, we saw a mother with two kits. A mother and a single kit were frequent visitors for a few weeks in July, showing up in the backyard almost daily. It's impossible to know if this was the same mother we saw in the Spring, but I'd venture to guess that it was, meaning something happened to one of her kits. And although we've seen foxes in the yard lately, we haven't seen the mother and kit together for quite some time, leaving me to wonder if something happened to the mother, or to the kit, or if it was just time for them to go their separate ways.

It's safe to say that not everyone is as excited to see the foxes as we are. On one of my runs one morning, I rounded a corner on the road and surprised a fox who was "dining" on something in the middle of the road. As I got closer, the fox ran off and I discovered that this was no ordinary roadkill - it was a plump, freshly killed, headless chicken.

Deer have been more scarce than I would have expected. Occasionally, we'll see one drink at the pond, and there were a group of three that were steady visitors for a time in the early spring. We see more signs of deer than actually seeing deer - hoof prints in the mud and freshly nibbled pea plants in the garden.

The "local" porcupine apparently lives in a culvert under the neighbor's driveway. We've seen this rather plump pincushion on a number of occasions, including one rainy afternoon where we watched him amble across the backyard, climb a tree, and proceed to get his fill of leaves. Fortunately, the curious puppies next store have yet to make his acquaintance.

Raccoons are occasional visitors as well. Fortunately, they don't seem to be as destructive as their brethren are in more suburban areas in the country. They've never bothered our trash cans and seem content to stay hidden. I did find one wrapped around the bird feeder one night, gorging itself on sunflower seeds. But even that one exhibited good manners, leaving plenty of seeds in the feeder for the birds (the local squirrels do not exhibit this same consideration).

Jasper, our dog, sometimes picks up the scent of an animal when we start out on our regular morning walk. A couple of times, this has led us to a bushy black and white creature scampering across the ground. With age comes wisdom, and sometime during the past 11 years Jasper has come to learn that this black and white "kitty" will emit a rather noxious odor if you get too close. So, upon visual identification of his "quarry," Jasper has had the good sense to back off and let "kitty" amble on unmolested.

There's also something doing some amazing tunnelling under many of the boulders in the yard. It must be nocturnal, though - other than the tunnels, I haven't seen a trace of these critters.

The Birds

Starting at the top of the feathered food chain, we have the bald eagle. I've seen the eagle flying over the yard a couple of times, and have seen it perched in a tree by the shore on a number of occasions while out running. All of these sightings have been either in the late fall or early spring, so I think the eagle might be wintering here and heading north during the summer.

Chief among the early morning bird cacophony are the crows. Crows don't get very good press, but I find them quite fascinating. They are obviously quite smart. On two occasions I have found them actually untying the knots in the garbage bags that we have set out at the roadside for pickup. Even I have trouble mastering that maneuver. Crows also appear to have a very complex social structure. You never see one alone, they are always part of a group (or a "murder" if you will). When not breaking into garbage bags, they do a lot of their food hunting on the shore. It is not uncommon to find crab shells littering the ground in the woods around the house.

Occasionally, wild turkeys strut along the driveway. I spotted five of them doing just that this spring. We're much more apt to see them while out on our run, though. They seem to make their home in the woods at the top Mt. Percival.

During most of the spring, our pond was visited regularly by a pair of mallards. They would fly in, search for food in the water for a bit, and then fly off. In late may, while on a run, I came upon about a dozen ducklings scampering across the road, followed by the female mallard. That was the last I ever saw of the ducklings or the ducks. I wouldn't doubt if the foxes had something to do with their absences.

A great blue heron was also a regular visitor to the pond for a few days, in which time it managed to severely deplete the frog population. But it has not been back, and the frog numbers have since rebounded.

Not surprising, living in the woods accounts for the fact that we see a large number of woodpeckers. At least two of the majestically large pileated woodpeckers call the area home. We also have a large contingent of downy and hairy woodpeckers.

I've also had "one-time" sightings of a pheasant and a turkey vulture.

The Reptiles and Amphibians

Frogs. We've got lots and lots of frogs. But, I've already told you about them (In the Company of Frogs). The pond is also home to salamanders, although finding those is rare.

On my way home from Bangor one day, I spotted a turtle who was about to partake on the dangerous quest of crossing a busy road in the middle of the day. As I do every time I see a turtle in this situation, I pulled over to "rescue" it. Only this time, instead of putting it well off the road, I decided it would prefer living in my pond. The ride home after picking up the turtle was a rather curious adventure - once he got in the air conditioned truck, Mr. (or Mrs.) turtle was quite active and managed to make several laps up and over everything in the truck including my leg while I was driving.

Of course, when I got him home and set him near the pond, he suddenly decided that being absolutely motionless was the way to be. I watched for about 20 minutes as he did nothing. After going up to the house and feeding the dog, I walked back down to the pond to see how the turtle was doing. He was gone and I haven't seen him since.

The Insects

With both a source of cold running water (a brook), and warmer, standing water (the pond) I've expected that the black fly and mosquito populations would be quite hearty. For whatever reason, be it weather related, our proximity to the ocean, or predators, we've been happy to discover that the biting insects really haven't been that bad. In fact, there have only been two or three nights where the mosquitoes made sitting out on the deck uncomfortable.

Recently, I've come across what I presume to be an insect (based primarily on the fact that it has six legs), but which I've never seen before. Any help the readers could provide on identifying this "bug" would be appreciated. As far as I can tell, it lives under water - I discovered it clinging to a piece of pond grass, submerged about a foot under the water, and it never surfaced during the whole time I observed it. It's body is long and slender, approximately 1 1/2 inches long, and is shaped to look almost exactly like a blade of the pond grass. In fact, it would be nearly indiscernible from pond grass except for its long, thin, black jointed legs.

The Missing

No Maine "woods" would be complete without moose. So far, I'm sorry to say, we have yet to see any. A neighbor, however, has seen one on a couple of occasions on Mt. Percival, so maybe it's just a matter of time before one graces our backyard.

And we haven't seen a black bear, either. Not surprising, since I've yet to see a bear in all my time in Maine, although I'm told they are abundant. Hmm... maybe their the ones tunneling under our boulders.