Where there’s woodlands, there’s…

Bats!

At the end of my street, there was a hill that petered out to dirt trails. Both sides were flat. On the right, there was a huge patch of wild strawberries. Always sour. Kids always said, “I saw Mrs So and So walking her schnauzer through the patch.” Dare you to eat one. So you’d pop one on your mouth and girls would scream. BFD. Now, pulling up wild garlic and eating it–THAT took real balls!!

Further on, the patch gave way to a huge woodland. The make-out trees. “Everyone” took girls up there to make out, but you never met anyone who actually did it. Why?

Cause there were bats there. At dusk, I’d go up and sit on the edge of the woods and watch them get their mojo on for the evening’s crunchy treats. As I said, there was no noise out here at night–you’d hear their little unearthly buzzes and chirps if you were still. Girls periodically ventured up (Probably on a dare) and you’d hear screaming and whimpering. Everyone knew bats always had a thing for getting it on in girl’s hair, right? +

I gotta say, some bats got really close. You could almost feel the rush of the wingtips brush your face. Which was a cool sensation. A friend and I picked some strawberries and tossed them in the air to see if we got any takers. A few nabbed them.

I learned later where some rented a room when I helped a guy paint an older house just outside our enclave. The shutters all had 3-4 bats snoozing behind them, and you can bet they were royally pissed at being disturbed in the summer heat! And the shutters were festooned with turds, so the young guy (aka me) got to hose and wipe down the reeking shutters before they could be painted.

Still love bats, but they’ve taken a beating here in Pennsylvania. Habitat loss–you bet. That area near my house is all developed now. The forest is a sad downcast shadow of its 1960’s heyday

+ =Even Ellen Foley knows that!!!

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