Who Else Lives on This Mountain

We didn't come here to be alone on this hillside, and we aren't.

The skunks work the property at night, moving along the fence lines and through the lower grove. They're methodical about it. The coyotes are louder — you'll hear them most evenings calling across the ridge, one voice picking up where another left off. On the clearest nights the sound carries for miles. You get used to it, and then you start listening for it.

The bobcats move on their own schedule, which is to say they appear when they decide to and not before. Nicole has tracked the same female through the upper sanctuary for the better part of two seasons. She moves through without urgency, pauses occasionally to look at whatever is making noise, and then she's gone into the brush. The game cameras have her crossing the ridge line regularly, usually around 3am.

The snakes are worth a mention because people always ask. Red diamond rattlesnakes are here, and they belong here. They're not removed. They're part of how this ecosystem regulates itself, and the rockier sections of the property give them exactly what they need. The California kingsnakes are here too — they prey on rattlesnakes and keep the population in balance. If you see a kingsnake on a visit, leave it where it is. It's earning its place.

Great horned owls work the grove after dark. Ravens during the day, loud and argumentative. Red-tailed hawks circling the thermals off the south-facing slope in the afternoon. Mule deer have come through — not often, but the tracks have shown up near the lower water stations. Nicole maintains wildlife watering points throughout the property, filling them on rotation through the dry months when the natural sources go down.

This mountain had a full life on it before anyone farmed it, and it still does. The goal isn't to push that out to make room for the trees. The goal is to farm inside it.