Why do I live in suburbia? The access to nature.
I'm a northerner -- I was raised in a place with a fair amount of snow. So when I moved to Decatur, I was excited to learn about the different ecology of the southern climates. We still get frost down here (for frost-free climes you have to drive another 4 or 5 hours south into Florida), but sure enough, the wildlife here is novel to a New Englander.
Case in point: the roaches. Seriously. This journal is really going to be about animals a sane person might possibly want to see, but, if I'm going to write about the local wildlife, the roaches have to get top billing. These things are large -- and I speak as someone who's swatted New York's finest. Paka just got one, as I write this, that was a good 2 inches long, not counting the antennae. They run like the Mars Explorer robot, jerkily, but at an impressive speed, although not fast enough to get away from the cat, who likes to dismember them. Interestingly, they aren't at all interested in our food or even the garbage; they only seem to come in for water. When it's just rained, we get fewer of them, and they're sorely missed, of course. Although their absence is compensated for by the spider crickets, another novelty – ungainly, stripy things even less able to get away from the cat than the roaches are. And best of all are the giant spiders, brown with neon-yellow stripes on their horrible long legs and, sometimes, brilliant orange spots on their bodies, which build perfect, two-foot-wide webs in my back yard.
But enough with the gross-outs. If you're willing to brave the bugs and arachnids, the birds you can see in Decatur are amazing.
To wit: the eastern bluebird. Who knew? I spent my youth in the woods of New England helping hammer together birdhouses to coax the shy bluebird back into the area, but I never saw one. Now, not a hundred feet from my own house in a suburb outside of Atlanta, what should I see but that unmistakable brilliant blue flash? But seeing the bluebird makes me nervous, because I fear for its poor rare life - I only see it smack in the middle of the hunting territory of a red-tailed hawk, which, by the way, I saw swoop out of the upper branch of a tree, snatch a squirrel off the ground, and fly away, the poor squirrel still squeaking.
And all that's within sight of my backyard. There's also the usual array of small mammals -- moles, chipmunks, squirrels -- everywhere. When I go out in the morning for the newspaper, it's like a scene from a Disney film, tiny animals hopping in and out of the ivy:robins, blue jays, and sparrows chirping; mocking birds everywhere; and the occasional loudmouth crow telling them all off. Plus, the neighborhood dogs. It's hard to be lonely here.
For wildlife in a more comprehensible setting, the place to go is the South Peachtree Creek Nature Preserve. It's a pond surrounded by woodland and wet meadowland (and a creek, of course), so there's a wide range of habitats in a very small area, and the density of animals is even higher than in my backyard. Rabbits, of course, and I presume some kind of predator, like foxes, though I haven't seen any myself. Turtles and frogs aplenty, and woodland songbirds all over, though. And on the lake, waterfowl: ducks, herons, geese, and various migratory species. I've heard rumors that there are beavers there, too, but I haven't seen them myself. It looks like a good place for them, though.
The other attraction of the South Peachtree Creek Nature Preserve is the blackberries, which grow wild all over it in early summer. If you go and find them, please leave some for me (and the birds)!
To get to the Preserve, Scott Boulevard to Medlock Road; take Medlock to the end and turn right, go straight until you reach the park. Tell the rabbits I sent you.
[Note to the editors: please don't insert random hyphens in my journal! It's the "upper branch of a tree," not the "upper-branch"; similary, the roaches are "2 inches long," not "2-inches long." If it were a "2-inch cockroach" the hyphen would belong, because the would "2-inch" would be functioning as an adjective. And it's "some kind of predator like foxes," because the foxes are an example of possible predators, whereas "predator-like foxes" would be foxes which merely resembled predators. Maybe they're vegetarians?]