der Waldschrat

Noun (colloquial, sometimes humorous)

Literally: forest goblin

Pronunciation (for English speakers):

VALT-shraht

Meaning: an eccentric, reclusive person who lives in or is strongly associated with the forest (often described as shabby, wild-looking, and out of touch with modern society)

Example:

“Seit er in der Hütte im Wald lebt, gilt er als richtiger Waldschrat.”

“Since he’s been living in the cabin in the woods, people call him a real forest hermit.”

Fun Fact:

The word combines Wald (forest) and Schrat. In Germanic folklore, a Schrat was a woodland spirit, sometimes friendly, sometimes mischievous, and often linked with goblin- or dwarf-like figures in Middle High German texts. Over time, the mythical meaning faded. Today Waldschrat describes a person instead: someone who isolates themselves in the woods, appears unkempt, or seems out of touch with modern life. Depending on tone, it can be mocking, affectionate, or

humorous.

Related Words:

der Einsiedler – hermit

der Kauz – oddball, eccentric (literally “owl”)

weltfremd – unworldly, out of touch

Before dawn, the yard is not mine, but theirs. A family of skunks wanders through, soft as dream smoke. The papa carries a tail so black it seems to swallow the night whole, a living shadow drifting across the grass. The mama follows, her plume white and luminous, a lantern acting as a beacon for the little ones. Between them, four kits tumble together, traveling not so much in a line as in a shifting, rolling knot. They are fluff and tiny legs, bright snouts sniffing the air, a handful of poofy tails bobbing like dandelions let loose.

They pause at the edge of the garden, and all at once, the kits scatter a little, then reform their fuzzy constellation, a star cluster reorganizing itself under watchful eyes. Papa noses the ground. Mama lingers at the fence. The kits wriggle in their living bundle, then sway forward again, unified by some invisible cord of scent and instinct.

It is still dark, but the air feels awake with their passing, as if they bring a hush of ceremony with them. The cameras watch from the bench, unseen, using night vision so as not to disturb their procession. The world belongs to them for a while, as the sky softens toward morning.

#backyardzoo #roanokeva #skunk

The camera caught a pair of visitors in the backyard last night, one after the other, as though they were taking turns under the cover of the early dark.

The first was a striking one, mostly white across the back, carrying a low-slung but full, snowy tail that hung low like a lantern puff of smoke drifting close to the ground. It lingered a while, slow and deliberate, before melting back into the shadows.

Not long after, from the left, a smaller figure appeared. This one wore a two-tone coat along its back, the classic dark broken by pale stripes, with a tail more upright and poofy than the first. Quick steps, curious pauses, and then it too slipped out of sight.

Two brief chapters, one after the other, written in black and white fur on the dark green edges of the yard.

Current mood: is sleepy a mood?
Music: Miles Davis – Blue in Green

#roanokeva #backyardzoo #skunk

A new skunk passed through the yard early this morning, though I only discovered it later while watching the night’s camera clips. It felt a bit like a secret visit, a calling card left behind.

This one walked with a certain careful pride, tail curled up like a feathered hat, as though on its way to some early appointment. Not hurried, not shy – just deliberate, the way a creature might be if it already knew it belonged here.

I caught myself thinking of it as a newcomer neighbor making introductions. Maybe it will meet the others who’ve been drifting through lately. Maybe they already share a map of the night, invisible to me until the camera gives away a corner.

I like knowing the yard is host to all these small travelers, even when I’m not awake to greet them.

#roanokeva #skunk #backyardzoo

https://youtu.be/TsiateGOPZk

Friendly Reminder – Columbo says:

Don’t talk to the police until you get an attorney!

To protect yourself when speaking with the police, state that you want to remain silent, you want a lawyer, and you do not consent to any searches, and then calmly leave if you are free to do so. Always remain calm, don’t lie, and do not resist or interfere with the police. If your rights are violated, gather any available details, like badge numbers, and file a complaint with their agency.

Key phrases to use:

“I want to remain silent”

“I want to speak to a lawyer”

“I do not consent to a search”

“Am I free to leave?”

What to do during an interaction

Remain Calm: Keep your voice calm and avoid hostile or argumentative language.

Don’t Speak Unnecessarily: Do not provide explanations or stories; exercise your right to remain silent.

Do Not Consent to a Search: Politely refuse any request for a search of your person, car, or home by saying, “I do not consent to a search”.

Ask if You Can Leave: Ask, “Am I free to leave?” This determines if you are being detained or are under arrest. If the answer is yes, then leave calmly.

Ask for a Lawyer: If you are arrested or interrogated, ask for a lawyer immediately.
Record the Interaction: If possible, record the conversation and note down details, such as officer names or badge numbers.

What not to do

Don’t argue or resist

Do not argue with, run from, or resist the police.

Don’t lie: It is a criminal offense to knowingly lie to an officer.

Don’t agree to meet at the station: Police may say they want you to come to the station to “clear some things up,” but you should not do so without legal representation.

If you believe your rights have been violated:

Document everything

Write down all details you remember from the encounter, including badge numbers and car numbers.

Report the incident

File a complaint with the officer’s agency’s internal affairs division or a civilian oversight board.

Last night I caught myself turning over that old phrase like a pebble in the pocket: your vibe attracts your tribe. It feels a little bumper sticker, a little new-age coffee mug, but there’s something sticky in it that doesn’t wash off.

We’re radios, each of us, humming on whatever frequency we’ve tuned ourselves to. Sometimes low, sometimes bright, sometimes static-filled. Walk through the world long enough and you’ll notice – people tuned close to you pick up your signal. They lean in. They nod. They laugh in rhythm with the same kind of odd jokes you thought only you enjoyed. The rest? They drift by like ships that never caught your lantern’s flash.

I see it online too – threads weaving together in unexpected ways, a dozen kindred spirits showing up in the comment section like they’ve all been circling, waiting for the same lighthouse. Offline, it’s the folks who smile at the same stray cat on the sidewalk, or the ones who instinctively hold the door without calculation. Small markers, soft flares.

It makes me wonder what frequency I’m radiating this week. Am I sending out late-night porchlight calm? Or the frazzled static of too many browser tabs? Either way, those signals echo back in kind faces, gentle nudges, or sometimes silence that says “time to retune.”

Maybe the trick is less about attracting and more about allowing. Shine your little frequency honest and unfiltered, and the right people will hear it, hum along, maybe even harmonize.

And if you’re reading this? Odds are, we’re already on the same station.

#roanokeva
#yourvibeattractsyourtribe
#birdsofafeather
#greatmindsthinkalike #foolsseldomdiffer

A ginger cat came by today, padding into view with the quiet certainty that only cats seem to carry. His coat glowed warm against the cooler tones of the evening, as if he carried a little bit of sunlight with him wherever he wandered. He paused just long enough to glance around, ears flicking, tail low in cautious stalking.

There’s something about these creature visits that feels less like chance and more like a small gift. A reminder that the world is stitched together not only by our errands and routines, but by these fleeting threads of life passing through. He looked at ease, at home, as if every porch and yard is part of his map. Cats like him seem to drift between households, between lives, touching each with a light paw and then moving on again.

When he slipped away, it was without ceremony – simply a turn, a stretch, and he was gone. What’s left behind is the soft impression of presence, a memory that lingers longer than the moment itself. A golden shadow, and a little more color in the day.

Current mood: quietly charmed
Current music: Bill Evans – Peace Piece


#gingercat #neighborhoodcat #roanokeva #quietmoments #dailyvisitors #catvisit

Last night’s visitor was a slip of fur, no bigger than two palms cupped together. A tiny bunny came up to the porch, pausing like a shy traveler who has taken a wrong turn. It was late enough that the world was softened with quiet, the kind of quiet where you can hear the crickets speak in steady rhythm and the night breeze move leaves like a deck of cards being shuffled slow.

The little one froze for a moment, tiny ears up, body still as if carved from shadow and moonlight. Then a twitch of the nose, a shift of paws, and it dared a step closer, investigating some unseen secret only rabbits know.

It didn’t stay long. A few breaths, a whisker’s time, and then it bounded back into the dark, swallowed up by grass and mystery. But for that moment, it was just the porch and bunny, a small sweetness stitched into the evening.

I half expect to see it again tonight, checking in like a neighbor, making sure the world keeps its gentle corners.

#backyardzoo #rabbit #bunny #roanokeva

On the drive past Old Salem Days, a roadside sign made me grin. “Lemonade, Water & Puppies” Three little words that worked like a pocket spell for happiness. I could see it in my head, a shaded stand with cold cups sweating in the heat, tails wagging against ankles, and laughter drifting down the street like music. Sadly, when we went down the road to see, it had vanished like a tiny Brigadoon, not a trace to be seen.

The September sun leaned warm but not punishing, a light breeze tugging now and then. By the time we reached Old Salem Days (that takes place on only one day, by the way), the streets were already crowded, people moving in waves between booths, voices overlapping with the smell of food smoke and snazzy classic cars.

Somewhere along the way we started wondering what to call the folks who live in Salem. The idea that stuck was Salemanders. It feels like it belongs in a friendly folktale, part neighbor and part myth, carrying a spark of fire or a shimmer of magic in the pocket. A name that makes the town feel even more alive. (Unlike Salemite, Salemian or Salemster)

Current mood: playful
Current music: sunshine, rainbows, and lollipops

My brother and I, Easter, on or around day 1490 or so. (Today is 20,676), bro, left, showed up around day 750.

Note my groovy teardrop peace sign necklace and his amazing ash-blonde hair. Even I was dishwater blonde in a Captain Kangaroo-style bowl cut (which was the fashion of the time)

Not shown, my matching jacket that went with the pants, channeling Herb Tarlick before WKRP ever aired. 

#atlantastreet #brotherlylove #fashion #oldphotos #folkservice #easter1973

I think the papa skunk came by yesterday morning, just as the air was settling and before the first light slipped out from behind the ridge. His tail is black and his markings so dark that at first glance he looked almost like a badger wandering across the grass. I like to imagine he is the father of the babies I saw earlier this week, circling close, checking that the ground is still safe for them.

He moved slowly, as if he belonged here, lingering only a little before vanishing into the trees again. It feels like a continuation of the same story, these small visits layered together, the family returning in turns. Each sighting could stand on its own, yet when I think back, they begin to form a gentle rhythm.

#skunk
#roanokeva #backyardzoo
3 videos

I won’t ever be one to mourn the death of an active fascist and nazi. His political leanings and actions contribute to so much harm. But I do understand the gravity and consequences of this event. We’re essentially watching a timeline of events that I don’t think we can depart from. And rightfully it should turn our stomachs. But a man who said that a certain number of gun deaths are to be assumed and absorbed in order for business to continue as usual—in his words—to protect the 2nd amendment, this is a logical and fitting death for this man.

I’m not sad for his passing. I’m sad for the magnitude of violence we are not prepared to face as a nation. And I’m scared for all of us.