A young woodpecker clings to my ceiling beam at midnight

By Marcia E. Gawecki

At midnight, I came home to find a bird hanging from the inside curtain of my front door. Since it’s so close to Halloween, I was afraid to open it.

I had also seen too many horror movies in my day. The ax murder finds something or someone that you hold dear, such as your family pet or best friend, and then kills it to psychologically destroy you. Who could ever forget the bunny boiling scene in “Fatal Attraction?”

Did someone kill a bird to get to me? My mind was racing. After someone had put sugar in my gas tank recently  (which nearly killed my car’s engine) I’ve been on edge. Was this the next step in my own psycho-nightmare?

I didn’t want to see a dead bird. I absolutely love all kinds of birds!  Every day, I work hard to keep them hanging around my Idyllwild home. I regularly change the sugar water in my hummingbird feeder. I put out pellets and bread crusts out for the birds, but it’s the bluejays who get most of them. Three years ago, I planted a Fuji apple tree, which finally bore seven apples this year, and didn’t say a word when the bluejays poked holes in all of them.

But with four cats, there’s no way I could have a domestic bird. Remarkably, my cats are also tender-hearted because the birds, mice and lizards they bring to me as “gifts” are still very much alive. They are scared, ruffled and shaken, but still alive. Then it’s up to me to capture them and put them back outside where they belong.

I turned the key, opened the door slowly, and quickly flipped on the light.

The junior woodpecker, as it turns out, was still alive!  He flew from the curtain to the ceiling beam (where I couldn’t resist taking his picture). He was beautiful, with a bright red crown, and white and black markings on his feathers.

Now, how do you get a scared bird out of your house at midnight?

After putting the four cats in the bedroom, I opened up all of the windows and doors. But the little guy didn’t budge.

He just looked at me, as if to say, “Don’t you know I can’t fly at night? Only bats can do that!”

So I started toward the kitchen to unpack my groceries, absent-mindedly turning on more lights. That’s when Woody Jr. took flight. But it was painful to watch. He flew towards the back door, bumping his head on the ceiling four or five times.

I wanted to shout, “Don’t go up, go ooooooout!”

The young woodpecker lost a feather

He ended up behind my refrigerator, scared to death. So I unplugged it, and risked ruining a few things. But the refrigerator buzzing annoys even me, so I can’t imagine how a young woodpecker could stand it all night. So I shut the windows and doors, and went to bed.

Laying in the dark, I remembered an old wives tale: “If a robin flies into your home through an open window, death will soon follow.”

I shook off the death notion. It was a woodpecker, after all. And it was likely dragged in through the window by one of my cats.

The next morning, while I was making toast, I saw him again–clinging to a wine bottle that had colored wax dripped all over it.

“Does the wax resemble tree bark to him?” I wondered.

He kept nervously darting his head back and forth from behind the bottle. So I opened up all of the windows and doors again, warning him to watch the ceiling this time.

Again, he didn’t budge.

So I got out my camera to take another picture, and he flew towards the ceiling. He landed on a picnic basket on the top shelf.

So that’s where I left him to go run errands. I figured my presence was making him nervous, but I was also taking a risk leaving my house open during a recession.

“Come on, in and take whatever you’d like, just make sure you leave the doors open so the woodpecker can get out!”

When I returned, Woody Jr. was gone.  I missed his farewell flight, but was glad that he was back to his normal life in Idyllwild.

He left me a memento, though. A small feather that dislodged during his overnight stay.

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

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The blind mother raccoon's daughter (now grown) heads for the cat kibble.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

The first time that I saw her was at midnight in my kitchen. I had just returned from work and had forgotten to shut the back door. I have cats, and always leave kibble out for them. Apparently, the smell had attracted her.

I had written an article on raccoons before, so I knew to start making noise and turning on lights. They don’t like either one. She was headed for the back door, when she suddenly turned around. What was she doing? I got scared.

Then I could see the two little “kits” with her. They were the size of a baby cat, all cute and furry, but with that distinctive black band across their beady eyes. I went for the food drawer, and started getting out some kibble, and promised them more if they left.

I put it out in a pie tin and watched as each of them delicately lifted the food with their hands and ate it. All the while, they didn’t take their eyes off of me once, except for the mother.

I didn’t realize that something was wrong with her until several visits later when she came by herself. She was on the porch ledge eating the bread that I left out for the bluejays.

I put kibble out for her in the pan, and she didn’t step backwards, or run up the tree like her kittens did. In fact, when the food hit the pan, she came towards me immediately. I had no time to react, but kept my voice soft, “Here you go, honey, here’s some more food for you.”

She reached for the food, but missed the pan. She tried again and missed. The third time, she found the food and ate it. I could see in the porch light that her eyes weren’t quite right. Almost a little cross-eyed and tired. They didn’t shine like her kittens’ eyes.

“What are you doing?” my sister in Kansas asked me. “Did you know that they can reach up and open your screen door? If they come inside your kitchen, they can open up boxes and canisters. It would be a disaster!”

I didn’t tell her about the earlier visit.

“I heard that if raccoons, which are nocturnal, go out searching for food during the day, they can burn out their retinas,” some student told me.

“I’m not sure if that’s the case,” said the receptionist at the Idyllwild Ranger Station on upper Pine Crest. “She might have gotten into a fight with another raccoon. You know how sharp their claws are.”

“Isn’t there any raccoon glasses that we can give her?” I teased. I was concerned that if this mother raccoon couldn’t see me, then she couldn’t see any predators either.

(from R) The blind mother's daughter and grandson dine on my back porch.

“Coyotes may be able to sneak up on her if they can sense that she’s weak,” the receptionist said. “You really shouldn’t be feeding her. Like we always say, ‘A fed bear is a dead bear.'”

I knew what she meant. She wasn’t talking about bears, but the danger of feeding wild animals. Not only for us, but for them. We could get bitten, and they could become dependent, and let their natural defenses down. But what about the blind mother raccoon? Would it be better to let her forage for her own food? It seemed a little cruel.

“Well, she’s teaching her babies that they can dine at your place sometimes,” said my mother.

“Cat food is pretty rich for raccoons,” offered Janice, another receptionist the next day. “They really like dog kibble. Perhaps you could feed them that.”

I had heard of a “Raccoon Lady,” in Idyllwild, who nurses baby raccoons back to health. She’s also a pretty good hairstylist. I plan on talking to her soon. Perhaps she could advise me on what to do next.

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

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Dore's crashed motorcycle sculpture is grabbing a lot of attention

Someone once said, “Artists are the first and last to speak.”

Well, one artist in Mountain Center is speaking out about the current state of traffic around his metal sculpture garden.

There’s too many motorcycle accidents happening there, he said.

About two years ago, CalTrans, along with a contractor, attempted to fix the curve on the road from Mountain Center leading up to Idyllwild. They widened the road and added caution stripping to the middle, but many accidents still happen there.

“They fixed the road, so people think they can go faster now,” said Dore Capitani, a metal sculptor whose shop sits at the end of the curve. He closes his eyes and sighs. He’s seen his share of motorcycle accidents.

One time, he said, the motorcycle rode right onto his property, near his metal building where he was working.

“The guy fell off it earlier, but the motorcycle came pretty fast around the curve and landed on my property,” Capitani said.

After a motorcycle flew into his yard, Dore put up a wooden barrier

After that, he wasn’t taking any chances. With the help of Josh Whitney, who owns a tree cutting business in Idyllwild, they stacked up several huge wooden tree trunks that act as a barrier to his property. It kept the motorcycles from coming in, but didn’t stop the accidents from happening.

So last week, Capitani decided to put up a life-sized metal sculpture of a crashed motorcycle and attach it to the wooden tree stumps.

“I had an old junker motorcycle, and about three wheels laying around,” Capitani said. “So I made a crash sculpture.”

Well, some Idyllwild townsfolk and at least one CHP officer thought it was real, and became alarmed.

Some motorcyclists told Dore that they didn't like the sculpture

“One police officer came over the wood pile looking for the body,” Capitani said. “These guys are used to fighting crime, but he couldn’t see that the motorcycle was welded to the wood!”

“Then Larry from the hardware store said that I better add something to the sculpture because people were concerned,” Capitani added. “So I added the word, ‘OUCH!'”

“Ouch!” is welded next to the motorcycle in bright, red letters, so there’s no more confusion. But there’s still bad feelings.

He said that several motorcyclists have stopped by his art garden and said they weren’t happy with his sculpture.

“They don’t have to like it,” Capitani said.

He hopes that it might make a few motorcyclists and drivers stop and think about going too fast on that curve. It’s clearly marked “25 mph” on either end, but most of them go 50 mph.

One CHP officer, who was assigned up in Idyllwild for years, grew weary of the motorcycle accidents. When he was writing up a report about one, he asked the kid how fast he was going. The kid, who had a broken leg, didn’t lie.

“I was going 50 mph,” he said.

“It’s marked 35 mph,” the officer scolded. “That means 35 mph, not 36, not 37, but 35 mph.”

That motorcyclist was lucky that he only sustained a leg injury, but his bike was “totalled.”

Dore's art garden has many more sculptures to see

Capitani’s motorcycle crash sculpture is located just after the curve in Mountain Center at 28815 Hwy. 243. Visit Dore’s Mountain Metals Sculpture Garden for other large metal and wood sculptures made by him or call (951) 659-0791.

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A dead deer disappears from along Hwy. 243 in Idyllwild

By Marcia E. Gawecki

Early Thursday morning, Feb. 25, a motorist spotted a dead deer lying along Hwy. 243 near the Nature Center in Idyllwild. She stopped to ensure that the animal was dead, not just injured and suffering. The California mule doe had a massive head injury, and did not move, even when she took pictures. Then she went to report it to the Idyllwild Ranger Station. Ten minutes later, the deer was gone.

What happened to the deer? Was it only stunned, and got up and ran back into the forest? Did another motorist take the deer home to butcher and eat? Did a couple of coyotes drag it off? Or did a California Fish and Game warden pick it up during that time and dispose of it?

Although dead animals are not in their jurisdiction, a couple at the front desk of the Idyllwild Ranger Station had their opinions on the matter.

“The deer could have gotten up and ran back into the forest to die,” said one U.S. Forest Service employee who wished not to be identified. “Or maybe someone saw you standing there and decide to toss it over the side of the hill.”

After all, Idyllwild is a tourist town, and dead deer are bad for business.

After reviewing a couple of photos, the other USFS employee said that the animal looked dead, not injured.

“Maybe someone decided to pick it up to eat it,” he offered. “I wouldn’t have touched it, though. It could have been diseased.”

He wasn’t sure if it was against the law to pick up a dead deer in the San Bernardino National Forest, but gave the phone number for the California Department of Fish and Game field office located in Palm Springs, that’s in charge of these things.

“I’m pretty sure that it’s against the law for anyone to pick up a dead deer along the side of the road,” the receptionist said.

He took the motorist’s name and number and said that an investigator from the law enforcement division would call her back. The investigator did not immediately return calls.

“A person must have a valid hunting license to pick up road kill,” he added. “And it has to be in deer hunting season.”

He added that when an animal is reported dead in the Idyllwild area, one of their crew will likely pick it up or they will ask a biologist in Idyllwild to dispose of it.

According to the California Fish and Game’s web site, www.dfg.ca.gov, deer hunting season for zone D-19, is authorized after the first Saturday in October, and only for 30 consecutive days. No deer hunting permits would be allowed in February when food is scarce and they must venture out into the open. Furthermore, a hunter’s bag and possession limit is one buck with a forked horn–not a doe.

“I think someone decided to take the doe home,” said an Idyllwild resident later. “You never know. They may have wanted it for the venison steaks, its fur or even the skin.”

So what happens if someone finds a wild animal, such as a deer, and it’s injured and suffering?

“A CHP officer will sometimes shoot a wild animal that’s suffering,” added the USFS employee. “You can always call them to see.”

Tracy Philippi, of Better Wildlife and Pest Control in Idyllwild, will also shoot a wild animal that is injured, or dispose of a dead animal on your property. Call (951) 659-0525.

For anyone who wishes to report a dead or injured animal in Idyllwild, call the California Department of Fish and Game field office at (760) 200-9186, or visit www.dfg.ca.gov.

Boulder removed from Hwy. 243 is marked by pylon.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

Around 10:30 p.m. on Friday, Jan. 29, about a mile north of the U.S. Forest Service Alandale Station, a large boulder managed to slide down the hill and land on Highway 243. A California Highway Patrol (CHP) officer was parked there in his sedan with his flashers on, covering the spot for oncoming drivers. A Caltrans bulldozer was also there ready for the move, and another was on the way. They had to get that boulder, about the size of an SUV, out of the road.

It looked like a formidable task, maybe something that would take a couple of hours, so I quickly called Jenny Kirchner, the photographer for the Town Crier newspaper. “You might want to come take a photo of this boulder. It’s right in the middle of the road near the Alandale Station,” I told her voice mail, and left it at that.

As it turned out, she got the message and wanted the photo, but was in a movie theater in Palm Springs at the time—without her camera. After the movie, she drove up the hill to get her camera, then down again to get the shot. She took it about 2 a.m., after it had been moved.

How she found the bolder in the dark and without a CHP marking the spot I’ll never know. The photo made the Feb. 4th issue of the paper, on page 3.

I had to go down the hill the next day and couldn’t find the boulder anywhere. As it turned out, Caltrans had moved it about 20 yards from where it slid. There’s a fallen tree and a big hole left there (see photo), but two neon pylons marking the new spot.

Boulders blocking Highway 243 are a big deal around Idyllwild, and especially a sore spot for the Town Crier newspaper. About two years ago, a much larger boulder had blocked the road for about a week, causing residents and tourists to go around the Hemet way. After much consideration, Caltrans blew up the bolder to get it out of the road.

Becky Clark, the former Town Crier editor, couldn’t even make it to work in Idyllwild that week, and was struggling to put out the paper from home. A reporter from the Press Enterprise in Riverside had called her asking about the boulder, and when it was going to be removed.

This boulder that slid last Friday night wasn’t quite as much of a headache for Idyllwild residents. In fact, only a few people knew about it. Yet, whenever it rains a great deal like it has over the last couple of weeks, rockslides are likely, and drivers should be wary.

NEXT UP: Photos of the bridge out in Valle Vista, at the bottom of the hill. Some say that it’ll take one month to fix.

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

A fallen tree and hole mark the spot where the boulder had been.

Boulder size comparison to car.