April 11: Wildlife at the dump
Kristen Lindquist
The fitness center at our local YMCA has big windows that look out onto interesting views of the local dump. Stay with me, here. I'm not entirely joking. One window faces a big ugly metal building, but in the background, craggy Mount Battie rises dramatically amid the Camden Hills. The sky is often an important presence in this scene, as well. Some evenings the window frames a spectacular moonrise. This afternoon a bank of shining white-topped cumulus clouds lurked on the horizon. This particular window is along the track, in an otherwise inaccessible corner of the gym; the prospect of another glimpse of a cool-looking sky is sometimes the main incentive for me to run one more lap.
Other windows, placed so gym-goers can enjoy a view from the weight machines, face the back of the building. There's a patch of woods through which deer sometimes pass. And there's more of the dump, a section that includes an area of grassed-over land fill marred by piles of demolition debris. A couple of nights ago, as my husband and I were walking together on the track, we noticed a crow dive-bombing a hawk in a tree at the dump's fringe. This evening, on yet another round of the track, we noticed a flock of turkeys out there. On each circuit, we tried to pay attention to them. At one point, a big tom was fanning his tail and strutting through a group of apparently unimpressed hens. Another couple using the weight machines had also noticed them, with seeming delight.
Beauty's not the thing--
habitat is habitat.
The turkeys don't care.
Other windows, placed so gym-goers can enjoy a view from the weight machines, face the back of the building. There's a patch of woods through which deer sometimes pass. And there's more of the dump, a section that includes an area of grassed-over land fill marred by piles of demolition debris. A couple of nights ago, as my husband and I were walking together on the track, we noticed a crow dive-bombing a hawk in a tree at the dump's fringe. This evening, on yet another round of the track, we noticed a flock of turkeys out there. On each circuit, we tried to pay attention to them. At one point, a big tom was fanning his tail and strutting through a group of apparently unimpressed hens. Another couple using the weight machines had also noticed them, with seeming delight.
Beauty's not the thing--
habitat is habitat.
The turkeys don't care.