One of the challenges of living in the country is finding a balance between loving nature and living with it. We don't deny the wild life their survival but there is a dividing line between human and animal. At the moment our lambs are being preyed on by the jackals. It is heartbreaking to hear the distressed cries of the flock at night, and in the morning find the gruesome evidence of the predators nightly hunts. More aggressive farmers in the valley are setting traps. The only traps we would consider is where the animal is caught live, and relocated to a reserve.
Our fruit trees are constantly under attack of the wild life in the area. Baboons are terrorists. They don't simply satisfy their needs but they destroy the fruit - yanking unripe peaches and grapes off the tree to toss them in the dirt. Even pomegranates get ripped off the trees to smash gleefully on the ground. The constant challenge to our survival is the wild birds that feast on our fruit trees. Mouse birds are among the biggest pest. They truly are more like rodents with wings as they scurry through the bushes and trees scrounging food.
Recently on a drive through the pass we stopped for photos of the view. The BuckarooBabies began pointing excitedly to the base of the trees where we had stopped. We all watched in delight as a family of pretty mousebirds took their winter sand bath. They barely fluttered a feather as we gaped at their antics. As the dust flew they also groomed each other and occasionally grabbed a berry from a neighbour's beak. I realized just how perfectly we are all created to live in harmony. And yet, there is a slight imbalance, caused by greed. The mousebirds can't merely eat what they need. They ruin an entire season of barely ripe fruit as they peck carelessly here and there.
Continuing on the beautiful drive we again stopped to admire the vastly different scenery in the small area. Again the sharp eyed BuckarooBabies spotted movement. This time it was up on the mountain ledges. Do you see it? I didn't. We watched for a long time. It was only when I slowly zoomed in my camera that I could see what my excited children were pointing at.
We call them dassies. They were prolific before the drought. It is wonderful to again see them scurrying along the rocky edges of the mountainside. Although assumed to be timid the dassie (or Cape Rock Rabbit) doesn't refrain from biting. We didn't try to get closer to test the theory. They are another animal that seems to have a confused identity - a fat rodent? A short eared rabbit? Unlike the numerous other wild animals around our homestead these little creatures remain on their side of the mountain and we on ours. We have a healthy respect for each other and we prefer it that way. I wish we could live in peace with more of the wild life but maybe the day will come....