By Marcia E. Gawecki

It’s not just the snow on the ground in wintertime that causes wildlife to reach out to us. Maybe it’s the cold.

I was visiting my Mom who lives near Menifee and had to get my car fixed. We were up early. She was making coffee, while I sat at the table trying to wake up when I noticed there was a hummingbird hovering just outside her kitchen window.

It flew above the wire on her potted tomato plant, and then darted back and forth. It seemed like it vying for attention. I always love watching the hummingbirds at my Mom’s place because they stick around all year. Hummingbirds leave Idyllwild when the winter comes, but return in the spring. There’s one local woman who heads a group that catches, bands and records our hummingbirds. (More on her in a later blog.)

When I opened my Mom’s back door to discard some recycling, the hummingbird fluttered over the doorway. You can always hear them coming, they sound like small helicopters.

“Look! It’s the same hummingbird!” I shouted to my Mom, and then realized this was more than just a friendly hello. “Mom, where is your hummingbird feeder?”

“It’s still down, next to the sink,” she said. “I haven’t had a chance to fill it yet.”

I calculated that it had been down for several days before Christmas. Since my Mom is short (and shrinking, she says), I take down the feeder from the hook.

I immediately grabbed a small pan and filled it with one cup of sugar and water, and put it on the stove to dissolve.

“Why are you doing that now?” Mom asked. “You’ll be late for your car appointment.”

“It will only take a second,” I reasoned. My mother didn’t understand that you couldn’t ignore those hummingbird signs. Those poor babies were HUNGRY.

Yet, how did they know that I would feed them? Could they tell by my clothes that I lived in Idyllwild and fed my own hummingbirds? Perhaps they’ve been calling to and fluttering around my Mom for days, and she didn’t see the signs. I made a mental note to follow up on the hummingbird feeder whenever I took it down for her.

So birds, squirrels, and other small wildlife need our help in the wintertime when food is scarce and they’re relying on us to fill in the gaps. It can be in Idyllwild, Menifee or Poughkeepsie.

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

“Piano Fest is the coolest name of all of our music concerts so far,” said an Idyllwild Arts student in anticipation of the event. “It sounds like a big, fun event, like Woodstock.”

In fact, Piano Fest got a standing ovation. Sixteen promising young piano students from Idyllwild Arts music department, ranging in ages from 14 to 18, presented an hour-long program on a stormy Monday night, January 18, that will not soon be forgotten.

Most of them played duets on the two shiny black, back-to-back grand pianos that dwarfed the stage. The selection of songs ranged from classical to ragtime.

The show opened with Zixiao Wang, Jia Ying Dong, Yifan Yin and Lin Wei Ruan, simultaneously playing Bach’s “Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major.” The thunderous and intense number would suddenly turn soft with crystal high notes that hushed the eager crowd.

Next came two sets of duets by four seniors. Le-Seul Yoen and Daphne Honma gave an impressive performance of Bolcom’s “The Eternal Feminine,” while Georgina Bertheau and Jonathon Naquin gave their Yamaha’s a workout with “The Serpent’s Kiss.”

Like serpents after prey, Georgina and Jonathon “pounded” the lower registers with their fists, and then suddenly, slipped off their keyboards and “rapped” their fingers along the top, bottom and edges of the piano. (Jonathon even “rapped” his fingers on Daphne, who was only turning pages for him). The daring and unconventional manner (like they were sometimes playing with boxing gloves or mallets), appealed to the teens in the audience.

Although it’s nearly impossible to get more than two grown pianists on a bench, three managed to take turns playing the tender “Valse and Romance,” by Rachmaninoff. Freshman Benny Kleinerman held his own along with seniors Tian-Peng “Timmy” Yu and Linda Edsinga.

However, when he was supposed to be resting, Timmy (last year’s Spotlight award winner) stood up and gave an impromptu ballroom dance across the stage that surprised and delighted the crowd. There was also a bit of well-choreographed “pushing and shoving” on their bench, until Timmy and Linda managed to knock Benny off with the final note.

“Fantasy on Porgy and Bess,” with selections from Gershwin and Grainger, capped off the evening. Anni Cao, Bohan Lin, Meiling Lin and Xue “Maxine” Gong took turns playing then flipping pages during this popular ensemble. Their rendition of “Summertime” warmed the crowd on the rainy evening.

The 100-over capacity crowd, made up of mostly students, faculty and hearty townsfolk, gave the 16 students who made up Piano Fest, a standing ovation.

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

It all started when my neighbor left Idyllwild over the holidays. She always gives peanuts to the squirrels.

“They don’t need any extra food,” I said, pointing to the acorns and pinecones on the ground. “They have everything right here.”

“Yes, but they’re so happy when I give them the peanuts,” she said. “They even wait for me on the porch.” She didn’t have pets, so I forgave her and their mess. The shells always ended up in my yard.

One morning, a squirrel ran down a tree just outside my window and awakened my cats. They always bolt upright whenever there’s any activity outside. All three sat and watched it disappear to the ground below.

Then a funny thing happened. The squirrel came back up the tree and stood right in font me.

“Tit-tit-tit-tit-tit!” he scolded at me loudly.

“What the hell?” I thought. Squirrels only scold me when my cats are outside. They like to chase them and the squirrels don’t like it one bit.

“Tit-tit-tit-tit!” the noise went on for what seemed like an eternity.

“What are you mad at?” I asked, looking at him square in the eyes. “My cats are inside.”

Then it occurred to me that this was not about the cats, but about breakfast. My neighbor was gone, and so was her peanut supply.

“I don’t have any peanuts,” I laughed, and rolled away from the window.

“Tit-tit-tit-tit-tit!” The noise got even louder.

“OK, OK,” I moaned, as I got out of bed. I didn’t have any peanuts, but I spread some peanut butter thinly on crusty bread, cut it into chunks, and put it out on the outside rail. The chatter stopped.

There was a wildlife lesson here somewhere. I once read an article that warned that you should never to quit feeding birds or animals in the wintertime. The snow covers the ground, including their food supply, and they’re relying on you to fill in the gaps. Even big game like coyotes search for food in the snow.

Two years ago, when I was shoveling my driveway, I came face-to-face with a coyote. My head was down, and I was toiling away, then I looked up and saw him. Initially, I thought it was a wolf because his head looked so big! But I know wolves don’t live in Idyllwild.

My heart was racing as I looked around for my cat. She was sitting on the front porch, and luckily, the front door was still open. The coyote followed my gaze, then looked back at me. I knew what he was thinking: “Can I get to the cat before the chick with the shovel gets to me?”

I managed to shout, “Get out of here!” and the coyote just sauntered down the road. It was 11 a.m.

Besides squirrels, birds in Idyllwild will let you know when they’re hungry. I forgot to feed the blue jays one morning, and was typing away at the kitchen table. I heard them squawking, but thought they were just annoyed at my cats. Blue jays don’t like them either.

Then one large male (you can tell by his crown) flew over to the window and hung on the broken screen. “Aaack, aaack, aaack!” he screeched at me.

“Oh, what is it?” I asked. “Do you want breakfast?”

I laughed at his gall for interrupting me, and for my new role as servant girl to nature.

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.