Nature doesn't always work like clockwork, but there are often easily predictable wildlife habits at specific times of the day. I remember one late spring when an elf owl in Madera Canyon appeared nightly as she exited her nest very close to sunset, thrilling congregations of waiting birders. Also at nightfall, but in the coldest part of Phoenix' winter, five or six hummingbirds regularly gathered at my home's feeder for a nutritious drink to sustain them while the overnight temperature plummeted close to freezing.
Again at dusk, I was fortunate to observe at least one skunk visit my Prescott yard daily over a recent two-week period. It wasn't the first time I've seen this nocturnal animal on my property, but the encounters stood out because of both their regularity and their frequency.
Unfortunately I've mostly seen skunks as roadkill, where they join raccoons as the most easily recognizable victims on our busy roads. Of course, it's the animals' aroma that initially draws your attention, where even when you're driving at 65 mph the corpses' smelly defense is still vainly at work.
But for a couple of weekends at the end of July and the start of August, I watched a skunk make regular explorations around my yard shortly after sunset. A wide variety of beetles had just started visiting my porch lights after a couple of powerful downpours of monsoon rain, so maybe the black-and-white striped critter was searching for the same insects and their grubs as a tasty meal. My deck-restricted cat took an especially keen interest in the visitor when she let her territorial guard down and joined me in calmly staring in wonder at the fascinating animal's appearance and movements.
Of course we didn't want to startle or scare the skunk for fear it would direct its distress at us with that pungent spray. So we quietly watched it gracefully waddle as its tiny legs carried its wide body close to the ground. Its feathery coat of hair undulated with the animal's elegant motion, dancing in time with the rocky terrain and culminating at its parasol-like tail. Standing out against the darkness and the rocks were its bright white stripes and hairs, outlining the entertaining visitor in the bright beams of both my flashlight and camera flash.
Whatever the skunk's motivation to visit my yard over two consecutive weekends, his visits seemed to stop just as the summer rains stalled and took their own break in activity. We waited Friday night, and then Saturday, and even Sunday, but Mother Nature's clock had shifted with the weather or the sun or some unknown force, silent again until it decides to announce its skunk and other surprises again.
Again at dusk, I was fortunate to observe at least one skunk visit my Prescott yard daily over a recent two-week period. It wasn't the first time I've seen this nocturnal animal on my property, but the encounters stood out because of both their regularity and their frequency.
Unfortunately I've mostly seen skunks as roadkill, where they join raccoons as the most easily recognizable victims on our busy roads. Of course, it's the animals' aroma that initially draws your attention, where even when you're driving at 65 mph the corpses' smelly defense is still vainly at work.
But for a couple of weekends at the end of July and the start of August, I watched a skunk make regular explorations around my yard shortly after sunset. A wide variety of beetles had just started visiting my porch lights after a couple of powerful downpours of monsoon rain, so maybe the black-and-white striped critter was searching for the same insects and their grubs as a tasty meal. My deck-restricted cat took an especially keen interest in the visitor when she let her territorial guard down and joined me in calmly staring in wonder at the fascinating animal's appearance and movements.
Of course we didn't want to startle or scare the skunk for fear it would direct its distress at us with that pungent spray. So we quietly watched it gracefully waddle as its tiny legs carried its wide body close to the ground. Its feathery coat of hair undulated with the animal's elegant motion, dancing in time with the rocky terrain and culminating at its parasol-like tail. Standing out against the darkness and the rocks were its bright white stripes and hairs, outlining the entertaining visitor in the bright beams of both my flashlight and camera flash.
Whatever the skunk's motivation to visit my yard over two consecutive weekends, his visits seemed to stop just as the summer rains stalled and took their own break in activity. We waited Friday night, and then Saturday, and even Sunday, but Mother Nature's clock had shifted with the weather or the sun or some unknown force, silent again until it decides to announce its skunk and other surprises again.
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| Rear-end view of skunk as it enters my neighbor's yard. |
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| View of skunk in my next door neighbor's yard. |
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| Head-on view of skunk in my Prescott front yard. |
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| View of skunk in my Prescott front yard. |
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