Here at Chez Leester, we’ve actually had this experience. Bunny has babies in our garden, babies grow up, babies come out of the garden and hang out with you. They haven’t learned to be afraid of people.
Just a little foretaste of a thoroughly restored Creation. Probably one without The Washington Post.
Jambo! Mr. Nature here, in the Horn of Africa–and so is the elephant shrew.
Actually, this cute little guy didn’t “return” from anywhere. He’d never left. But for 50 years or so, scientists couldn’t find any–although the local people said yeah, sure, they’re still around. But now, finally, science has rediscovered the elephant shrew–with the aid of no-kill traps baited with… peanut butter. Somebody had a bright idea!
As tiny as it is, the elephant shrew is most closely related to aardvarks, manatees… and the elephant. Or so they tell me.
And if it had been a cryptozoologist who’d rediscovered it, he would have succeeded himself right out of a job.
Ugh, the nooze! Pandemic. Politics. Riots. I’m supposed to be covering it, but feh. And double-fesh.
Here, instead, is some of God’s stuff: assorted butterflies filmed in slow motion, courtesy of the Houston Butterfly Museum. It reminds me of my grandpa’s butterfly bush, which attracted colorful customers from all around. I used to watch it by the hour.
The works of God’s hands are everywhere for us to see: a sure sign that God is nigh.
When I came home from the supermarket this morning and pulled into the parking lot, the first thing I noticed was that the crows and blue jays were making no end of a fuss, up there in the treetops. The next thing I saw was… a fox. That’s what had them so upset.
This was the second time I’d seen the fox in the past few days, and many of my neighbors have seen it, too. Maybe you live in a place where seeing a fox is no big deal; but here in our New Jersey suburb, it is. Our wildlife is mostly squirrels, possums, and birds, with the odd chipmunk thrown in. Never foxes.
However, there he was, crossing the parking lot, large as life. Okay, foxes are pretty good at adapting to human-dominated environments. Even so, I’ve lived here all my life and never seen a fox until now. And there have been deer around, too.
I don’t know why this should be. I’m waiting for more information. But my wife thinks there’s been so much unwelcome building around here, it’s driven the animals out of their hiding places–by removing those places and paving them over. I hope that’s not the reason, but it could be.
I like to think the wildlife is coming back because God has something better in mind for us than anything we’ve thought of by ourselves.
Before we move on to any demoralizing nooze, here’s Mr. Nature with a safari to the ocean floor in search of sea spiders. Please feel free to ignore the cutesy narration.
Very few of this have ever seen one of these critters, and most of us have probably not heard of them. Which is odd, because there are hundreds of species of sea spiders and they’re found world-wide in both deep and shallow water. But as most of them are very small and quiet, it would be easy not to notice them.
I’ve been fascinated by these creatures for a long time. How can you not be fascinated by an animal whose vital organs are in its legs because there’s no room for them in its body?
Fap to the evolution fairy tale. What hath God wrought!
Jambo! Mr. Nature here; and today our safari takes us to South and Central America in search of the invisible–well, almost invisible–glasswing butterfly. I’d never heard of them until today. But God’s Creation is so vast, no one will ever know the whole length and breadth of it.
These butterflies have transparent wings, which help them elude predators. Even the caterpillars are partially transparent. We do see color around the edges of the wings; but hey, if it didn’t work, the glasswings wouldn’t be here.
Transparency turns up in other animals, too. I used to go to our local pet store and watch in fascination the “glass catfish” swimming back and forth. Their skin and muscles are transparent and you can see their bones.
As Rev. D. James Kennedy used to say, “Ain’t chance grand?”
I heard this, faintly, as I was posting something else; and then nothing would do but to hear it clearly: Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee. Music by Beethoven, sung by the Mennonite Hour Singers–and sets by God the Father. The combination never fails to bring me close to tears of joy.
Our God is an awesome God, and the wicked shall not conquer.
I just can’t see how anyone can observe nature and not believe in its Creator.
Behold the ocean sunfish! I was totally intrigued by this creature, when I became old enough to page through books and magazines and at least look at the pictures. It didn’t look at all like any other fish! I mean, come on–it’s like a great big head without a body.
But look at it in its natural habitat. Here it works just fine. Here it moves gracefully.
And then a platoon of little fish come along to clean the parasites off its skin!
“Evolved by blind chance–” Uh-huh. But it’s not chance that’s blind.
I admit I’m not much for spiders, but I’ve always had a soft spot for these zebra jumping spiders–maybe because I wanted to be a zebra when I grew up, and look how close these little spiders have come to doing that.
Unlike other spiders, jumping spiders can actually see what’s going on around them. While I was writing yesterday, I discovered one of these little guys crawling around on my knee. It was easy to induce him to climb onto my hand and then jump somewhere else. He must’ve liked me because he kept coming back for more. So I played with the spider for a minute or two before finally releasing him onto the ground.
But I insist I’m not eccentric–just enjoying some of God’s stuff. And trying to manage a nooze-free weekend.