22: wild, all

Dear Friend,

Do you ever think about how others see you? Are you concerned about your hairstyle, brand of clothes and shoes and car, the doggy breed you’ve chosen to drag you down the street? How much do you care what people think?

It seems obvious that nature sets its own bar around surviving, do you think it even considers how it comes across? Do you think it cares if it bugs you? Surely, creatures somehow recognize each other, and each species must appreciate their own aesthetics, right?  

What do you think creatures know and feel about their incredible beauty?

As you know, we’re traveling. And we do strive to maintain good hygiene and we try for a semblance of presentability. Frank always looks good, like a dashing adventure photographer. Me? Well, ‘fashion disaster’ definitely comes to mind, but I’m comfortable, and that tends to override my desire to change out my wardrobe. Besides, our appearance doesn’t seem to matter, out in nature.

Though I truly value people for taking the time to share their thoughts, and I do weigh out their opinions and advice, it would be difficult for me to breathe under the weight if I carried it all. Do you agree that wisdom nuggets vary in applicable strengths?

So that brings me to this morning around 2:00 am. Sounds inside the trailer – mouse sounds. The first mouse of the year. Frank has named her, ‘Alice.’ I got up and sliced open my arm on the cupboard latch, got a Band-Aid, put it on, started to wake up, and grabbed two of four humane mousetraps that we have washed and ready to bait with peanut butter.

I buttered two traps and set them, then I went back to sleep until Alice sprang the trap around 5 minutes later.  

None of us slept well after that. Alice was, understandably, anxious to continue her tour of our little trailer and her pacing inside her trap was loud. Frank and I didn’t sleep more than a half-dozen catnaps. So, at first light, into the truck with the three of us and Frank’s camera.

We drove to an area in the wetlands to watch the sunrise and to let Alice run free. Of course, there were many Wetland bird friends for Frank to photograph and I’ll speak for everyone when I say, we all enjoyed the morning air. For the first time in a week, it was not full of smoke.

When Frank and I returned to the trailer, I cleaned everything that Alice might have toured-upon with a solution of bleach-water. Then I cleaned out her trap. I do clean the traps in-between mice so that if there happened to be a sick mouse, the next one won’t pick up the contagion. (Plus, it’s just much cleaner in the trailer that way)!

Yes, it makes me sad for Alice that she won’t be going back to her nearby home today and I am fully aware that she could eventually run 1.5 miles back to this campground. (Believe me, I do appreciate Frank for putting up with all of my concerns for these little friends that venture into “our” space). (If you would like to find out more about Humane Mousetraps, see link below to: Tracks 2025 no.10 more to the story).

Maybe at this point you have some thoughts about me that you didn’t have before. (Smile). I’d love to hear what you think! Please know… if you were a mouse, I’d do the same for you!

Alice might be the only mouse this year. BUT, in case she isn’t, would you like to name the next? (To follow the rules for hurricanes, please choose a name that begins with ‘B’).

As you might remember, we’ve been to this campground before. It was last year, a little later in August. I wrote more information about Hart Mountain National Antelope Refuge in

Tracks 2025 no.26 Well out of the way, and, since there were thunderstorms here last year, Frank's photos captured a much different-looking landscape. (See link to that blog/letter following this one).

It’s been a wonderful week of photography for Frank and his camera! While in search of this stunning Pronghorn friend (with whom we have exchanged numbers and promises of keeping in touch) …

… we came across this Sandhill Crane outstanding in the field on top of Hart Mountain.

It’s early August, dry and windy, but there is still water in the reservoir below.

When Frank is out with his camera, he quietly finds a place to be still, and he waits. He’s not in hiding. He doesn’t camouflage himself. He patiently pauses for the creatures around him to recognize that he’s part of their scene.

Usually a few birds vet him and then other birds will land nearby.

Heron and Egret both fly so gracefully.

Their wings barely make a sound as they glide along on the wind and they are so tranquil when hunting alone. But, when there are lots of other birds present, they can make quite a big deal about touchdown. There is squawking and carrying on, less about tranquility, more about landing in a good spot.

And sometimes, even though it is a huge outdoor space, there is crowding among friends.

These American White Pelicans easily have a wingspan of 9 feet or more.

They don’t dive for their dinner like Brown Pelicans, rather, they paddle about, hunting and resting.

Frank's photo sessions seem to depend on his acceptance by any Canada Geese present. Every Canada Goose I’ve ever met seems to have an opinion. Perhaps you’ve heard some of their discussions? They chat on the ground, in the water, while flying, as they take off and land. They can be quiet but it’s pretty unusual. So, if several Canada Geese agree to let Frank stay, it seems that all the other birds will accept him.

But… if one Canada Goose decides it’s time to go, an announcement will be made, followed by chaotic flapping and squawking, lifting, landing, flying away…

… and, before long, all the other birds will think about leaving, too, until they realize how lovely it is now that all the goose-fussing has flown away.

Frank has taken his time this week, exploring along the Warner Valley Wetlands. We’ve both been enjoying our week in the wild, all the while grateful for the shelter of our trailer and fresh water. The air has been very smoky because of so many wildfires. We join you in sending good thoughts to all of the creatures and people in the way of the fires, including those battling the blazes.

And, as it can, life goes on.

Thank you for being here to read Tracks by the Post! (Several friends have called themselves, ‘Trackies,’ a fun name for people that read our blog/letter)… If I knew for sure it wouldn’t bug you, I would thank YOU for being a Tracky. How do you feel about it?

 Please Write if you’d like, we always enjoy hearing from you! And no matter where your Doodle drags you, we hope that the week ahead is filled with happy moments that feed your soul and keep your heart aloft!

Gently Be,

Leslie and Frank

PS: If you’d like to check out our visit to Hart Mountain National Antelope Refuge in 2025,

here’s Tracks 2025 no. 26: Well Out of The Way

Pps: More about Humane Mousetraps Tracks 2025 no.10 more to the story