Life With Animals in Rural Italy

Nature and Animal Life in the Neighbourhood 

Living in rural Umbria for some months has been a great experience. So much art and cultural history, as well as all the natural scenic wonder.  But I want to give the animals here some credit too. I rarely write about animals, but they've been important to my life here: companions as I walk along these country roads. 

I'm a city girl and claim no affinity with Jane of Tarzan fame. Furthermore, this is no jungle or zoo. But, living in this fairly secluded rural area has brought me much closer to animals on a daily basis. Nothing special, you may think. But it has been special for me.

The best things in life aren't things.

--Art Buchwald

First off, there have been the songbirds in the morning that brighten the day. I hardly see them, but love hearing them daily. If I don't hear them, I know something is up. like an upcoming storm or too many hunters in the area. There stillness tells me so

There are the chickens and geese and turkeys, too, that inhabit the fenced back yards along my country walks, some even walking freely about, like the two I photographed. And once a  pheasant (stopped for a snapshot)  on our lawn. 

 

 

The birds and animals that live here are an essential part of  what makes this place come alive for me. 

There are many other animals here, of course. I see sheep in the meadow (sounds like the start of a Julie Andrews song), and goats grazing.  But I haven’t made their personal acquaintance. 

 Then, there are the geckos that live on the porch in hot weather, sometimes venturing inside. I found one swimming in the kitchen sink once and helped it outside to dry land. They're quite interesting to watch as they scurry along the rocks and between the pots of cacti and geranium. Some are the brightest iridescent lime-green colour. Others are striped with dark diamonds, like the accents seen in Renaissance-clothing. They are very quick and shy. But if I sit quietly at the patio table I can see them stretching and looking about, seemingly unaware of this big hulk of shade blinking her eyes while she sits smiling at them curiously.

There are many dogs, of course. Everyone has at least one. They used to bark as I passed, but now most of them know me. Mostly I love the dogs here. They’re so…. Italian. They have their own names like Cuciolo or Pipo, but I give some of them  names I think fit t The rusty orange scruffy one up the road is called Scruffy, and his more silent companion is Harpo. Then there’s the beautiful white dog further on, whom I call Lily (even though she’s male).

The hunting dogs are another story. I don’t see them as often  as I hear them yowling. They don’t just bark; they yelp and moan and bay like wolves, acting up fiercely some nights  (I imagine them caged and hungry). 

There are many cats too. Most tend to belong to houses and barns, fortunately. I’m thinking back to all the hundreds of the catch-as-catch-can cats I saw hanging out in Rome’s Coliseum. They were ‘wild’ homeless cats. I’m very choosy about the house cats I like. Just as they are of me. Still, I love to watch cats. Who doesn’t? They are an epitome of animal grace.

Porcupines

One night, on the path beside tour house, I got to see two porcupines in full regalia! They were right in the headlights of our car as we drove down our rocky unlit path. I wish I'd had a camera with me. They were terrific-looking animals with their quills splayed out. Much larger than a skunk, which is the size I’d erroneously thought them to be. The two porcupines dashed quickly out of sight making what sounded to me like rasping-chirping (hi-pitched) sounds. I'm o glad to have seen them and to have done them no harm. I found some of their quills on the road next day. They are horizontally striped ivory and brown, and  are well worth keeping.

What I've learned is that the porcupine (porcospino in Italian) doesn't shoot its quills, contrary to folklore. Having few natural enemies, other than humans, it flees rather than fights. But it can bite or claw or even charge backwards, using its quill armour simultaneously as weapon and shield. Considered solitary nocturnal creatures, adults  live in pairs with their litter. They're protected by Italian law and don't have to pay taxes.

Cinghiale (Wild Boar)

Endemic to this region are the cinghiale. Almost every week, I see signs of them. There are overturned rocks (big ones!) all along the path from our house and up to town: signs of their rooting and up-rooting activities. You can  see the damage they wreak on land, trees;, and even the prominent stone fences of this region. They're also a source of good sausages in this region. 

This photo shows a stuffed cinghiale (actually, a sanglier , since  I took it in a taxodermy museum in France).  That's where I saw living boars, face to face, as well. But they were in domesticated pens! That's when we lived for a time  in  Puyloubier in Provence. The outskirts of this  village housed an old-age home for French Foreign Legionaires. True. They were a diverse bunch of old guys, to be sure, and tended to drink a great deal of rosé (who’d blame them). They also had good dinners (sometimes of wild boar) that we’d occasionally attend. 

Some Dangerous Animals

Most animals here are not dangerous, with the exception of some snakes, including vipers. I’ve seen some  ( perhaps not vipers) slither so quickly across the rocks, they seem like nothing more than a shadow. I’m used to garden snakes; but folks here tell me to beware of the poisonous vipers and asps. Try to be careful and wear boots when treading in the the tall grasses. Otherwise, I think the snakes  want to avoid us, too. We don’t have much to talk about.

In the category of dangerous animals, I’d also put scorpions…which I have, indeed, seen several times here.  Even in the house, unfortunately. These tended to be small, (less than 2 inches long).  But who wants to test out just how much harm a small one can do? So I never put my slippers on without shaking them out first, just in case. Like other insects, they are rather fascinating to look at: their shape is so unusual, making me think of them as more aquatic than terrestrial.

The Terrain

The terrain is hilly and rocky, with much green vegetation. Many dirt roads criss-cross, offering many trekking routes. 

Acqualoreto and Todi from Morruzze, JS Photo

Off the piazza  in Morruzze (named Cesare Paparini), there’s a dirt road that travels along farmland and grazing area. It leads eventually to the town of Acqualoreto, which comes as a big surprise after walking dirt roads and typically not seeing any people at all.  Occasionally, there have been a couple of lovely horses grazing, who sometimes will come over to see who’s passing, but mostly they stay away from the path.

Introducing Balthazar

my Balthazar

Several times, I heard a donkey braying as I walked down dirt paths towards the next town. I never saw him until one day when I was alone on the path and it began to rain lightly. I felt rather miserable and it seemed too long haul for me. I heard his braying get louder and louder as I was huffing my way back up the path returning toward home. After turning at a bend in the road, I saw him sticking his neck out and bobbing his head up and down as if saying, hi there, you made it!

I walked over, never having made the acquaintance of a burro before (though I can’t say the same for asses). There was a stack of hay under wraps on my side of the wooden fence. I grabbed a handful and gave it to him, which he lipped lightly out of hand. Good thing. I’ve seen those big donkey-teeth in films. He was sweet, but it was drizzling more strongly now, so I told him I couldn’t hang around to feed him more, but mentioned that I’d be walking uphill if he wanted to keep me company. 

Don’t laugh! He did, and he followed me up along the path until near the piazza, where  our roads diverged. He brayed as we lost sight of each other, and I knew he was a friend. I named him Balthasar, after a donkey made famous by Bresson in French cinema (Au Hasard Balthazar). Like his namesake, I think my Balthazar must have a good deal of empathy.

My Imaginary Landscape 

When I think of painting an imaginary landscape of this area, I'd try to visually relate how this place feels to me, more than of how it actually looks. I’d paint something special with birds and green and contrasting lights in it everywhere coming from all shrub-filtered sunlight along the paths I walk. I’d probably need to make several paintings to capture the diverse impressions that mark this place as special.

,Birdland  painting by Janet Strayer

Food for Thought

Cingiali can find truffles, but they uproot almost everything, and I'm not sure you can train one. In any case, Umbria is rich in truffles., I’ve discovered that there’s a debate over which is better: white or black. Each has its adherents. Aren’t these debaters fortunate to be in a position to even choose? If you find yourself in possession of a truffle, bow down to it, then store it in rice for a few days, as the Italians do (not the 'bowing down' part). Its aroma will permeate the rice, giving you double value. Cook black truffles, but eat white truffles raw (shaved thinly over pasta): they are exquisite. There are truffle festivals in Italy, mostly in the fall (truffle season). Click here to read more. 

More Creative Life

You can read and see more updated posts about Italy plus other travels and creative adventures by this itinerant artist at Creative Life News here.