Starry StarPod Nights

There is definitely something magical about sleeping in the starpod. You can feel every breeze, see every star, watch the clouds and the airplanes roll by, and hear every noise. People think that living way out in the country is quiet, but the night is actually quite noisy. There are the standard nature sounds such as crickets, frogs, whippoorwills and occasionally coyotes. Then there are the "domesticated nature" sounds like cows mooing, dogs barking and guineas squawking. Finally you have the actual human noises, such as cars, radios blaring, and redneck shouting matches (Yes, unfortunately the starpod is situated in a unique sound current that carries all the noises from one of our nearby neighbors - a family swarming with cats and shirtless teenage boys that all got kicked out of a local trailer park for causing trouble. Comforting, eh?)

Joe is one-hundred-percent head over heels in love with the starpod. I'm pretty sure it will take below freezing temperatures to convince him to ever sleep inside again. In fact, I sleep in the starpod half because I truly enjoy it and half because it's the only way I get to sleep with my husband anymore. Joe is also completely immune to all of the nighttime noises and will literally sleep through anything. Last night, for instance, we had cloud cover rather than the usual stars. Somewhere in the middle of the night, that cloud cover turned into serious winds, lightning and thunder and just enough rain to cover the bottom of a bucket (yay!!). Whereas the glass roof kept all the rain off of us, the screened walls let all the wind through and it was quite an experience to have lightning dancing right over my head! I was tempted to abandon ship and head back to the house, but I actually managed to fall back asleep. I was woken again later, after the storm had passed and the winds had died down, by very loud and insistent guinea squawking. Guineas are known for "sounding the alarm" so to speak, but they are (mine anyway) also known for crying wolf a lot. I tried to ignore them and go back to sleep, but thoughts of the vulnerable little keets got me hiking back down to the house with the flashlight. Of course, as soon as I got down there, all the birds got quiet and I didn't see anything going on. The squawkers were three of the adult guineas perched in a locust tree, and nothing seemed to be harassing them in particular. So, back to the starpod I went to finish out my night's sleep uninterrupted.

This morning I was very sad, but not at all surprised, to find that Silver only had two babies trailing behind her. I have read in several places that guineas are not good mothers. That does not at all seem to be the case. They are very devoted mothers, but their barely-domesticated personalities put them at the same risk as every other wild mother out there. I just looked up a wildlife study done in 2005 that estimated a survival rate of 1.1 poults (baby turkeys) per wild turkey hen. It's a tough world out there!! When you're a juicy little nugget (depending on your perspective) the size of a golf ball, you hardly stand a chance. I'm amazed that any wild baby birds make it to adulthood, and my guineas are no different. They just happen to be the "wild" baby birds that run around my yard, so I am keenly aware of the trials they face. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that at least 1.1 of these little guys makes it to adulthood.