On any given day I can watch river otters frolicking in a nearby creek, see a flock of turkeys parading across our yard or hear the distinctive whoo whoo of a Great Horned Owl. On occasion a stealthy grey fox will even make a rare appearance. You may be wondering, do I live in a wildlife refuge? Inside a national park? Nope, just a neighborhood in Santa Rosa, CA.

We live in the northwest part of town, about a mile west of our house the area changes abruptly from suburban neighborhoods to large swaths of open space dominated by vineyards. Keep traveling west and you’ll drive right across the Lagnua de Santa Rosa. In the dry season this large open space preserve is bisected by a narrow creek. When the winter rains arrive the creek swells and the surrounding area floods. In wet years the laguna resembles a small inland sea. Carol and I have kayaked on what half the year is dry land. The creek system near our house feeds into the Laguna which in turn feeds into the Russian River which empties into the Pacific Ocean at the small coastal town of Jenner.

A short stroll from our neighborhood, Piner and Paulin Creeks merge into the larger Santa Rosa Creek which drains into the Laguna. It’s along this creek system where our resident otters live. River otters inhabit fresh water and are the smaller cousins to sea otters. This riparian habitat is rich in wildlife. Fish, crawdads and frogs are hunted by herons, egrets, kingfishers…and otters. River otters seem to be thriving here. These precocious mammals are elusive but curious. I bike the creek trails regularly in the morning and it’s then when I occasionally encounter them, either on the side of the trail or swimming in the creek. The relative abundance of otters here speaks to the health of this ecosystem. I believe that these intelligent creatures choose to show themselves to me, their curiosity getting the best of them. It’s the shooting star-like nature of these encounters that I find absolutely enchanting. I always feel blessed after seeing otters.

In the early day of the republic, Benjamin Franklin lobbied for the humble turkey to be the symbol of our fledgling nation. The bald eagle won out but turkeys, being on the menu in virtually every American household on Thanksgiving Day, have since become an important part of our culture.

I’m ruminating on all of this as I watch the local flock of wild turkeys parade around our cul-de-sac. We’ve lived in our house for 23 years and these birds have been around for nearly as long as we have. Turkeys are large birds, especially the toms who stand over three feet tall. When they fan their tail feathers out while strutting their stuff in front of the hens it’s quite the spectacle to witness. In full display the tom’s feathers are a dazzling array of form and color. I’ve never actually seen a tom win over a hen but perhaps they choose to do their thing in a more private setting. This flock varies in size. I’ve seen as few as six and as many as twenty or more. Turkeys can barely fly but it’s just enough to escape predators or to get themselves up into their roost for the night. I sometimes witness this behavior at dusk as turkey after turkey will launch itself clumsily into the lowest branches of a tree.

There are many species of owls and most of them don’t hoot. The Great Horned Owl is widespread and most definitely does hoot. It’s deep, sonorous whoo, whoo is mysterious and evocative. There’s some open space behind our house with several very tall eucalyptus and redwood trees. Over the years we’d occasionally hear an owl up there but these appearances have always been fleeting…until about two months ago. I was out on our back deck after sunset one evening when I heard a pair of owls calling back and forth to one another. I felt so fortunate to be eavesdropping on their conversation. Since that night, the sound of Great Horned Owls has been a regular part of our evening soundscape. Owls seem to be living here now, why? Well that’s a mystery that I’m happy to just let be. Last night as I was drifting off to sleep the owl pair began another conversation. What a lullaby!

The grey fox is an elusive and secretive animal. This is definitely not a creature you’d associate with suburbia but yet here it is. I’ve seen our resident fox exactly three times but its scat and tracks in our backyard tells me that it’s a more frequent visitor. One morning not long ago, I watched it dash across our yard, leap into an apple tree and from there leap over the back fence. It was a dazzling display of acrobatics! My neighbor leaves for work before dawn every morning and often reports a fox sighting. I’ve stopped trying to plug the hole under our back fence that I know the fox is using as an entry point. I think it’s just so cool that it feels at home in our yard.

The “natural world” is a lot closer than you think my friends.  Wild animals are secretive and many are nocturnal, so be aware,  keep your eyes and your ears open, you just might be in for a big surprise.