The Circle of Life with Scarlet and Rhett v. Bonnie and Clyde

(Violence trigger if Mother Nature can be accused of such in the animal kingdom)

With an ominous thwack and a sloshy swish, the Florida 'gator crushes the unwitting flamingo in its strong hinged jaws, dragging it deep under the murky water. In the age-old dance, the flamingo struggles, thrashing wildly about, aiming its sharp talons at an impervious hide, shrieking into the deafening air. The silvery ladyfish drops from it beak to fall back into the muck and swims off, leaving a bloody trail. The exhausted flamingo breathes its last and succumbs, pulled downward to drown at the bottom of the Everglades. The 'gator will not eat its meal now, but will mark its location to feed on later.

With a silent glide the 'gator slides gracefully away to stalk its next prey or perhaps feign a nap in the subtropical sun, setting its trap for its next victim.

Act One: Scarlet and Rhett

Sheltered deep in the Florida Everglades, they respond to Nature's mandate to pass their genes to the next generation. The pair has sought shelter in the security of the ancient cypress with their petticoats of cypress knees, pausing to rest for the last leg of their spring migration. The lush landscape cocoons them in live oaks festooned in webs of dripping Spanish moss.

Their innate memories lead them to the scrub pines on the fringes of the river of grass and they land on the lower fronds of a hurricane-battered palmetto to feast on a slithering caterpillar or dragonfly. The fluttering of their wings is muted in the cacophony of the Everglades: the caterwauling of the endangered panther, croaking of legions of tree frogs, drubbing of the male 'gator crooning for his mate. The shrieking cry of the ibis and other waterbirds stream out in a celebration of life.

The bonded pair leaves the sanctuary of the 'glades to retrace their path to their recent nesting site, following a map as old as time. Some deep instinctual memory sends them away from their Everglades habitat to escape the dangers deep within. As they lift into the humid air, a disappointed Burmese python strikes out into emptiness and comes up non-victorious. But not to worry, this recent interloper here in the 'glades has a vast and tempting hunting ground and will not be denied. It coils deep within the branches, poised to strike at any mammal that dares invade its space.

Meanwhile, the Observer is hunched over the blue screen of his laptop jabbing endless numbers into the app that will send his hard-earned money to Uncle Sam. The mid-April deadline is approaching and he needs to finish this so he can work on today's blueprint. He yawns and stretches, then lifts his weary eyes and aims them at the front-facing office window with the plexiglas birdfeeder attached at eye level. He hopes for another pair of cardinals or even mourning doves to flutter in to break the deadening monotony of his work. The coir-lined hanging basket is empty, the chosen site of the last nest, swinging in the light breeze. But is it tempting enough to lure her in? Perhaps she will remember the untouched nest at the top of the porch corner column, the site of many nests these last years.

A brief flutter and then feathery flurry as the gray mourning dove alights on the wooden table directly beneath the birdfeeder. Her soft graphite eyes scan 360 degrees to detect imminent danger, checking her avian memory for the familiarity of this nesting spot. Observer sits transfixed as the dove seems to stare directly into his eyes. He fixes his eyes, trying not to blink or frighten her. She swivels her head and fixates him with her luminous eyes to challenge him. He knows she cannot fail in her assessment of the safety of her choice; her very survival and that of the two eggs she will lay depend on it. The mysterious secrets of thousands of years of Nature's ways seemed pooled in those liquid eyes.

Observer immediately christens her Scarlet, remembering last fall he had had to place the nest back after the wind had blown it off its perch. Wonder where Rhett is? Those obsidian eyes, full of mystery and wisdom, are inscrutable to him today.

She waddles off, hops across the brick porch flooring, and pauses to assess the hanging basket. Her eyes refocus on the nests at the top of the porch column. With a flurry of wings, her mate joins her, assuming his role as Rhett. The couple seem to confer and develop a strategy to ensure the safe passage of their genes to their offspring. One flies to the top of the column, settling into one of the pair of nests left from the last breeding season. The mate lands on the rim of the hanging basket.

The Observer hopes Scarlet is aware of the rat snakes that spend afternoons basking in the sunshine coiled in the leafy vines of the jasmine that covers the lattice on the porch column. He wishes he could communicate to her that she must be wary of her nest choice; perhaps the hanging basket will better keep her eggs out of the reach of snakes and raccoons and lizards.

As the Observer watches quietly from his window, he is amazed as a third mourning dove joins the one perched on the column. All three remain mute and mysterious. He holds his breath, forgetful that they cannot hear him through the window. Will they find the nests acceptable? He reminds himself to remember to refill the birdfeeder with the mix of seeds and grains; the recent visiting cardinals have almost cleaned it out, scattering the loose grains and seeds on the brick floor, to be pecked up by scavenging brown-headed cowbirds.

Act Two: Paris and Helen

Outside, in the back yard, Observer Wife is tending the raised garden beds they have recently created as a hedge against a possible food shortage. Many of their crops have failed to flourish this first growing season, but some have grown well and ripened. Utube and Google have so far failed to reveal a path to success in their search for food security. Not many humans can survive long on cherry tomatoes, mustard greens, and an occasional chili hot pepper.

Today's harvest is a small bowlful of cherry tomatoes, red, ripe, and succulent. She follows her usual rule: three for the bowl and one for her to eat. As she finishes picking today's haul, she hears a flurry of jostling branches and rustling leaves in the tangle of jasmine vines on the fence close by.

A flash of bright red informs her Paris has returned and Helen must be close by. Paris is such a brilliant crimson guardian, flashy red and noisy chirp designed to distract all but the most persistent marauding cowbird or sneaky mockingbird. She hopes the pair is cautious, watching out for the cat that makes a daily trek through the back yards of the neighborhood. The two yappy dogs at the neighbors are kept indoors during daylight hours, so Paris must be on alert. Searching the jasmine tangle, she spies the tightly constructed nest but notices it's quite low to the ground. She worries it's easily accessible to the predatory cat or raccoon or even one of the huge lizards that the large holes around the backyard reveal.

As she creeps towards the fence, she stumbles forward, her foot getting caught in a recent lizard hole, losing her flipflop as she tries to wiggle free. "F..." the expletive spikes out loud enough and the flash of crimson explodes out of the bushes. She freezes in position, hoping to signal she is a non-threat, but happy to notice the pair seem to have made their choice to stay.

She notices another new hole every time she steps into the back yard. These new lizards are huge, twelve to eighteen inches long, voracious predators. They are recent unwelcome immigrants to the ecosystem. She hopes the cardinal couple is aware and vows to watch out for them.

Last breeding season Helen and her babies had remained hidden away from even the hawk pair that patrolled the high skies over the neighborhood, swooping at the last moment to scoop up some unsuspecting prey scampering across the grass. These red=shouldered hawks working in concert with the occasional fly=by ibis had reduced the koi pond from twelve beautiful tawny koi fish swimming amongst the lily pads to just one supersized carp either too heavy or too smart to be preyed upon. When they drained the pond to replenish with fresh water, there the oversized koi sprawled, huge and flopping wildly on the pond bottom, the lone survivor.

Observant Wife pulls herself off the garden bench and trudges into the house, bowl of tomatoes clutched to her chest. Placing the bowl into the refrigerator, she turns to seek out the Observer cloistered in his office. She is not surprised to see him staring out the window, watching his most recent episode of Scarlet and Rhett.

The experiences of his years in the woodland lakes of the midwest with his two tours in Viet Nam may dwarf his recent adventures with the menagerie of animals he corrals in his yard. But one step out the front door, a shrill whistle and they'd come running: Spirit, his huge herding King Shepherd; Shadow, a smart, bitchy German Shepherd who's never forgiven them for bringing another dog into her domain; and Sunami, an overweight, mangey cat of indeterminate parentage, age, and purpose.

The tropical yard is ringed in bird feeders, squirrel feeders, owl houses, plants chosen for their ability to lure pollinators. Observer has recently lobbied for the inclusion of a bee hive or two or more after becoming aware of the dangerous decline in pollinators worldwide He'll share his wishes with Wife and they'll soon be much-stung keepers of bees, adding another layer to the Circle of Life.

The former koi pond has been filled in to masquerade as a mound for strawberry and blueberry propagation. Plastic containers overflowing with peanuts, dried corn, sunflower seeds, and grain are piled around and overflow the shelves in the potting shed. No squirrel, raccoon, cardinal, mockingbird, blue jay, hawk, wood stork, sparrow, garden snake, indigo, rat snake, dragonfly will go hungry or unappreciated in this yard.

Daily an unending parade of squirrels skitter across the fences and onto the pool surround, hopping deftly onto the feeders suspended on poles. Their every action appears designed to incite or aggravate the two shepherds, the cat, or the two yappy dogs next door. Cardinals, blue jays, sparrows, pileated woodpeckers, mockingbirds, all alight on the feeder, most politely taking their turns to feed. After eating their fill, some birds flutter over to one of the birdbaths provided for their bathing convenience or maybe a drink or two. A permanent welcome sign is out for all of God's creatures.

Act Three: Attila's Attack

Early the next morning, Observer stations himself at the office window, watching as Rhett and Scarlet seem to have used the intervening night to settle into their new home. Does she know the Observer is watching over her, rooting for her?

A third dove has joined Scarlet and Rhett, male or female we don't yet know. If it's a female, he will call her Mellie, if he is remembering his high school Margaret Mitchell novel correctly.

Scarlet has settled herself in the nest inside the hanging basket, perhaps liking the gentle swinging motion as well as its distance from the reach of predators. Only her head and the tip of her tail are visible over the top edge of the basket, available for a quick glimpse as she keeps popping up as if to survey her surroundings, and then pulling in back down to attend to her instinctual duties.

Another dove is perched in a nest at the top of the column, nestled in beside Rhett. Is she a female awaiting her hero, or a male seeking to help?

As Wife heads into the backyard, Paris swoops down over her shoulder, chirping in high-pitched shrieks. She allows her gaze to follow Paris as he stutter-steps a noisy path to the opposite side of the garden and knows he only warns her to stay away. Observer Wife watches from her seat on the garden bench she's pulled into perfect position for watching Helen and Paris.

She relaxes for many minutes and her eyelids lower and her head drifts downward onto her chest as the warm humid air and doldrums of this morning's garden lull her to sleep.

She has no idea how long she has been napping and off-guard when a noisy disturbance startles her awake. A German Shepherd named Attila, loose from the neighbor across the canal, has charged out from the side yard. He's usually just an active player, chasing balls and frisbees, barking at squirrels and cat or raccoon.

But today he is focused on another target, right there in the jasmine. Frantic Paris is dive-bombing and screeching, doing his best to distract Atilla, but in one concentrated effort, Attila rips Helen out of her nest and crushes her, feathers and all, in his powerful jaws. And all this happens in a split second, right in front of Observer Wife, before she can pull her body off the bench and attempt to prevent the carnage.

"Stop! Attila! Stop! Go away! No, no, no!" Her frantic screams do nothing to prevent Attila from crushing Helen in his jaws, as he rushes away from the scene. He leaves a bloody dull red feather-strewn trail to mark his escape. Wife fails to see where Paris has disappeared.

Act Four: Bonnie and Clyde

The Beginning and the End and Maybe a Beginning

"Hey, Honey, come peek in Scarlet's nest. She's laid her pair of eggs already. No, I still haven't figured out if that third bird is a single female or another male agreeing to stand guard. Time will tell."

Observer and his Wife are standing at the office window when the unimaginable plays out right before their eyes. A pair of predatory brown-headed cowbirds land on the porch railing. Maybe they have stalked this nest or these doves, awaiting their opportunity to strike. Scarlet has just flown off and Rhett has been gone a while, both leaving the nest unguarded. The third bird, Mellie, appearss to be setting on a nest of eggs.

The female cowbird seizes this opportunity to act out her nature: she flies up to perch on the rim of the nesting basket. Lowering her head, she shoves one dove egg out of the nest. It falls to the floor with a plop. The seven-foot drop crushes the fragile egg, spilling its rich yellow yolk onto the brick.

Observer and Wife watch in horror as the marauding female, now known as Bonnie, sits and lays her own one egg beside Scarlet's remaining egg. And with her task complete, Bonnie and Clyde, her newly named companion, fly off together. But not far, for they land on the power lines directly across the street in sight of Scarlet and Rhett.

"Oh my God," says the Observer. "What the hell just happened here? Are they watching to see if Scarlet and Rhett will notice?"

"Well, I warned you cowbirds are like mockingbirds. Their S.O.P. is to trick other unsuspecting birds into hatching and raising their babies for them. I say they are just sneaky, lazy bitches!"

"Just tell me when it's over. I've suffered enough carnage today already."

Bitch Bonnie and Creepy Clyde remain at their vigil on the powerlines. Observer and Wife imagine them waiting in anticipation to see if their insidious trick works. They are still there when innocent Scarlet returns to her roost, followed closely by Rhett. All are anxious to see how this scene will play out, but, so far, neither Scarlet nor Rhett seems aware of the switch.

And so Scarlet sets on both eggs, hers and that of the interloper, until they both hatch over a week later. Rhett becomes a busy provider, working to feed his new brood. In a few days they are ready to boot the next generation out of the nest.

The adolescent dove is ready, hobbles around for a while, and then tries out its fledgling wings. Success!

But Bonnie and Clyde's progeny is larger due to its more voracious appetite. It is less agile and unsuccessful, clumsy in its attempts to fly. Bonnie and Clyde and Observer and Wife watch the fledgling cowbird fall over and tumble off the porch, positioned in the path of the huge rat snake on its daily trek through the bushes from the stands of areca palms in the back garden.

By the time Observer has rushed out of his office, the deed is done in one gulp. Bonnie and Clyde have swooped from their perch on those powerlines, but all their heroic posturing and dive-bombing can't prevent the rat snake from enjoying his tender meal.

Scarlet and Rhett remain perched on top of the column, dark eyes watching, giving nothing away. Mellie returns to sit on her two new eggs, unscathed.