black tail deer in Applegate Valley

Deer looks in door of Curt and Peggy Mekemson's home on Upper Applegate River in Southern Oregon.

Anybody home? A deer looks in our screen door. We are glad we don’t have a door bell. The deer would likely use it— constantly.

It’s time for another quickie: A break from my bike six-month bike trip with a little humor to counter our serious times.

I’ve blogged before that a deer herd actually owns our property on the Applegate River in Southern Oregon. They take their rent in apples. If they aren’t paid on time, they come and stare in our windows— our front windows, our side windows, our back windows, and our bedroom windows. Or they eat Peggy’s flowers. She always runs out to discuss the matter with them. They think she is just being polite, asking them how the flowers taste. Or they deny that they have been eating the flowers at all.

A nosy neighbor. If one window doesn’t work, the deer go around our house, peering in each window.

Come on! I know you are in there.

Deer sniffs flower for edibility in the Applegate Valley of Oregon.

Mmmm, is this edible. Checking out a daffodil. Peggy is constantly searching for plants the deer won’t eat. Daffodils are one, but that doesn’t stop the deer from biting the flower off and spitting it out.

I have not been eating your roses! A thorny issue. This deer is receiving a lecture from Peggy about not eating her rose-bush. Check out that stance of rightful indignation!

Wow, that apple tasted like I want another one! Always.

Me too! (We get to see the deer in all stages of development. The first buck above had fully grown antlers. This guy was just beginning. Bucks lose their antlers in late winter/early spring and have grown another set by mating season.)

When they aren’t eating, which is what they do most of the time, they do other deer things: fight, mate, have babies, raise their kids, groom each other, sleep, and lie around chewing their cuds. Since we are a part of the herd, more or less, we are invited to witness all of these things. Sometimes it can get a little hairy, like when a doe ran behind me when a lust-driven buck was chasing her…

Pregnant doe sleeping on back porch in Oregon.

Okay, already! I’ve been pregnant long enough. Women can probably feel great empathy for this pregnant doe who couldn’t seem to get comfortable sleeping on our back porch.

Soaking in the sun and chewing their cuds. It isn't unusual to have several deer sleeping around our house. When Peggy and I arrived home after redrawing my bike route this summer, it was like the deer had taken over.

Soaking in the sun and chewing their cuds. It isn’t unusual to have several deer lying around outside our house. When Peggy and I arrived home after re-driving my bike route this summer, it was like the deer had taken over.

You know how it is with families. Even though you have seen pictures of the kids once, you are bound to see them again— and again. It used to be that mother or grandmother (and occasionally dad/granddad would whip out her/his wallet and show you one or two. Now they whip out their smart-phone and show you 40 or 50. 🙂 I’ll conclude with some of the kids from around our place. Odds are you will see them again.

Lean on me. Any parent/grandparent is more than willing to whip out pictures of their cute kids/grandkids/pets, etc. It used to be out of the wallet. Now it is on the the phone... or social media.

Lean on me. This fawn was so young it still had shaky legs and was leaning up against its mom for support.

A real cutie who is all legs!

Did you remember to wash your ears? I never get tired of watching deer groom each other. They do it all the time. This is a mutual effort.

Young blacktail buck with tiny horns in the Applegate Valley of southern Oregon.

And then there are the teenagers. I call this fellow Little-Buck. He, his sister and mom stop by daily and visit. He has high hopes for his small antlers.

Here he is checking out my camera this morning. Next Blog: Join me as I finish my ride in Montana and bike through Idaho.

Is it edible? Here he is checking out my camera this morning. Next Blog: Join me as I finish my bike ride in Montana and head into Idaho.

Grey squirrel Applegate Valley of southern Oregon, tackles a bird feeder. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

“Where are the birdies? The heck with the birdies, where’s the bird food?”

“Spring is sprung, the grass is ris. Let’s go where the birdies is.” Ogden Nash

A male dove just landed smack on top of a female dove. She flew away in disgust. But that didn’t stop her suitor. Nothing does. It’s that time of the year when the birds are in love, or at least in lust. They are twitterpated to the nth degree, a laugh a minute.

Tom turkeys are the most humorous. These guys know how to strut their stuff. Full of self-importance, they parade back and forth in front of the hens with feathers fluffed out and tails in full display. Adding to the show, their snoods stand at attention and their wattles turn a bright red. And no, I am not being obscene. Their snoods are the red, fleshy protuberance you usually see draped over their beaks. Even their beards, the feathers hanging down from their chests, stand straight up.

Tom turkey on display in Upper Applegate Valley, southern Oregon.

“Shall we dance?” Young toms on parade. Is the flamenco too tough…

Tom turkeys strut their stuff in southern Oregon.

Then join the Conga Line.

“You talking to me?” Note the gorgeous color of this tom turkey’s feathers.

These guys are in constant motion, so Tom is slightly out of focus. But check out his snood and bright red wattles. How could the girls resist?

As for gobbling, the toms do it in unison, staccato like. Heads and necks shoot out at the same time: Gobble, Gobble, Gobble. I gobble back, of course. How could I not? Their response is instantaneous, as if to put me in my place.

The hens totally ignore the show for the most part, and go about the serious business of eating. If they could yawn, I swear they would. Ho hum.

Each evening the flock uses the railing on our deck as a launching pad to fly to the tall Ponderosa Pines where they like to roost. (Turkeys need all the help they can get for lift-off.) Their morning starts at first light. Gobble, Gobble, Gobble. Lately they have been joining in chorus with the neighborhood dogs, who almost always have a howl fest around 6:30. It goes like this: Woof, Woof, Wooooooo, Gobble, Gobble, Gobble; Woof, Woof, Wooooooo, Gobble, Gobble, Gobble— on and on and on. Sleep is not an option.

Peggy and I have a front row seat on the wild kingdom. Each window has its view. I like our library the best. I turn my swivel chair around so I can watch the action while I write. I’ve recently added a bird feeder. It’s a round cage with openings set up to allow some of our smaller feathered friends a chance to eat without competition from their larger cousins. Finches, juncos, tanagers and nuthatches take advantage of the opportunity. Inevitably, some of the seeds fall on the ground. The tanagers are particularly messy eaters. Turkeys, tree squirrels, and ground squirrels consider it their responsibility to clean up the leftovers. Nothing goes to waste.

Our rustic back yard and the bird feeder. My look out window is on the right. A couple of years ago, a black bear turned over the Weber Grill. My daughter Tasha was sleeping in the closest bedroom. “Curtis!” she yelled.

The grey squirrels understand the source of the food and passionately believe they should have access to it. They are notorious in their efforts to help themselves, as demonstrated in the photo at the beginning of this blog. Here are three more examples.

Squirrel hangs upside down from a bird feeder in southern Oregon.

An upside down perspective.

A view from the side.

“Let’s see if I can unscrew this top.”

Our grandsons, Ethan and Cody, got me this very appropriate T-shirt.

Ground squirrels, of which we have far too many, also want to rob the source but lack the aerial capability of tree squirrels. It doesn’t mean they don’t try. I watched one try to shimmy up the metal pole attached to the bird feeder yesterday. He would get up about a foot and then slide down, only to try again. By the time I retrieved my camera he had given up. Larger birds are frustrated as well, but two acorn woodpeckers with long beaks and tongues have mastered the art obtaining sunflower seeds.

A ground squirrel peers through a glass pane on our door. “Come on Curt, lend a hand.”

An acorn woodpecker is forced to ‘think outside the cage.’

Remember Linda Blair in the “Exorcist” and how she turned her head around backward on her neck? Now, check out the Acorn Woodpecker. Am I looking at evil here? (grin)

Black tail deer are also daily visitors to our back yard. I find it surprising they don’t eat sunflower seeds since they seem to eat almost everything else. The does are looking quite pregnant now and will soon be disappearing into the woods to have their fawns. Bucks are in the process of growing new antlers, having lost the old ones in February. They took care of their mating duties in the fall.

A doe and a buck checked each other out in our yard last fall. “Hey Big Boy, looking for a little action?”

It isn’t unusual for the deer to bed down in our yard, and sometimes on our back porch! We often find them staring in the window, as curious about us as we are about them. Such is life in the woods. Who needs TV?

One doe lies down next to the bird feeder.

Another chooses to lie down under our Madrone, just to the left of the first doe.

And a third decides to take over our porch. She is studiously ignoring me, BTW. If she can’t see me, I don’t exist.

It isn’t unusual for deer to look in our windows. I caught this doe checking me out last summer while I sat in the library. Aren’t the ears magnificent?