On September 16, 2015 my friends Karen, Tom, and I were just that lucky and happened upon a rather industrious Ward, out in his pond area, enthusiastically going to town on a fresh log that the Keepers had put in the exhibit for him and/or his sister.
Rey’s arrival didn’t make a particularly large splash to most people, but it had a profound effect on me in quite a few ways, some of which are, sadly, not particularly happy ones. I’ll try to keep the “angst” to a bare minimum in this post, but it does make for a compelling story.
I walked around to the viewing window at the north side of the enclosure and watched this big fuzzy goofball trot towards me, then walk away more slowly, then turn and trot a bit faster back toward the window again. I got the feeling this was a show he was putting on exclusively for me, because I was the only one there and he seemed to lock eyes with me each time he began to canter. It was quite an experience!
Finally I was able to get a glimpse – and a photo! – of a tiny beak protruding just above the rim of the nest as the adult swallow deposited its treasure into the waiting mouth.
No matter what kind of day/week/month/lifetime I am having, I can always rely on these wonderful mountain goats to provide me at least a few moments of respite, and I can always find a place around their perimeter to be completely alone with the animals for a while.
I love bears. I have for as long as I can remember – at least as far back as Balloo in The Jungle Book, and the magnificent title character in the old Gentle Ben television series in the ’60s.
I had been there for about another 20 minutes or so, watching Ember and her baby and kind of zoning out a bit, when I began to realize there was something kind of odd about the kitten’s ears. I couldn’t work out what was bothering me about them, until all of a sudden it struck me: they were two right ears!
