Always know your hyenas from your jackals

My young twins have so far certainly picked up my interest in the natural world. They love pouring over photos of flora and fauna, picking out detail, asking questions. So when I recently happened upon some stunning wildlife photos from Israel's Parks and Nature Authority I showed them to the twins, a series on scavengers attracted by a carcass, portraits of birds and mammals.

Twin B's eyes flashed with excitement "It's a hyena!"

Me: But how do you know it's a hyena?

Twin B: Because it is bothering the bird.

Me: Why do you think it's bothering the bird?

Twin B: Because it doesn't like sharing food with the birds.

Me: What kind of food does it like?

Twin B: Meat. Like me. I like to eat chickens. I would share my chicken with a hyena.

Of course we actually live in a town where hyena sightings have increased dramatically in recent years, a function both of the growth of the native hyena population and the growth of the town with its tantalising rubbish and road kill. That said, the twins have never met a real life hyena. I hadn't realised they would recognise one.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised though. We went for a flower hunting walk to a nearby nature area not long after some rainy days. It was muddy and the boys were all excited to see lots of clear paw prints in the mud. Discussion ensued as to whom the paw prints might belong to, cats, dogs, foxes.

Twin A piped up "Ani yodea! Zeh tahn!" (I know! A jackal!) and he proceeded to do a very convincing impression of the jackal howls we heard a few weeks back on a walk in the woods.

Then the big boys, who'd run ahead, noticed some nice patches of autumn crocuses right on the footpath. My middle son almost trod on them in his excitement but my oldest called out "Sitvaniot!" (autumn crocus) and that stopped him in his tracks.

The twins dashed over all bright eyed, enthusiastic but also somewhat confused. "Sufganiyot? (Hannukah doughnuts) Eifo sufganiyot? Sufganiyot zeh Hannukah!" And they launched in to a Hannukah song medley before remembering about the hoped for jelly doughnuts.

Fortunately upon realising that we had found sitvaniot flowers and not sufganiyot doughnuts they were still bright eyed and enthusiastic, crouching down to carefully examine the find before running off to look for more.

Gazelle Valley

As we arrived at Jerusalem's Gazelle Valley nature reserve this afternoon Twin A pointed at the metal silhouettes of gazelle in the car park and exclaimed "Gazelles!"

Now we hadn't mentioned that we were going to Gazelle Valley, not in English, not in Hebrew, we just told the kids we were going to a nice nature area to look for birds. Also this kid hasn't figured out reading words yet.

Me: How do you know it's a gazelle?

Twin A: Because it has little horns. And it looks like a gazelle.

Like duh Imma.

I remember around twenty years ago when I volunteered from time to time with the Jerusalem Bird Observatory (JBO) I was brought here a few times by ornithologists from the centre to learn about the site. It was a dump back then, a mix of wild nature stranded in the city, abandoned agricultural plots piled with junk, and the odd stinking stagnant pond along with lots of mud. It was a haven for birdlife though, and home to one of Jerusalem's last small herds of native gazelle within the municipal boundaries. The good folks at the JBO, along with a number of local residents had a vision, to save this neglected little valley from construction, to save it as an island of nature in the heart of this busy, crowded city.

It looked like an exceedingly long shot, but eventually they succeeded. A few years later, this time with a few little kids in tow, I was back at the valley, this time with a group of family volunteers, planting trees and helping to tidy up the site. A few years after that the site opened with great fanfair, officially declared a nature reserve with a staff, educational programmes and trails open to the general public, along with closed areas to protect the gazelles' (and birds') space and privacy.

So it always feels extra special to me to come here, having seen and lived the area's transformation over the last two decades. We walked down to a lovely pond surrounded by reeds and full of ducks and other water birds. I was enjoying seeing all the different kinds of ducks, some species that overwinter in Israel. I thought the kids might be interested to, in this part of the world it isn't everyday you see a big pond with wild ducks.



They watched for a while, the twins pulling up chairs close to the bank, and then Twin A pulled at my skirt. "I want gazelles. I want to find gazelles."

I tried to explain that even in a relatively small nature reserve with a relatively big gazelle population we might not see any because they are elusive by nature, but Twin A was determined. I drilled them in how you need to be quiet and not get too close and stay still so that if you do see a gazelle, or any wild animal, you don't startle it.

When we finally did see some gazelle the older boys were so excited they kept creeping closer and talking excitedly, my middle son even startled a young female in to a spectacular display of speed and grace as she bounded away in to the brush, her hooves never seeming to touch the ground.

We met her again along the trail and Twin A admonished his older brother to stay away. "I want to see gazelle. You too noisy for gazelle, you need to go away so I can see gazelle."

And the twins watched quietly, enthralled and entranced, as a couple of gazelle emerged from a thicket to graze right in front of them, calm and beautiful.

"You see the gazelle Imma? I am quiet like a gazelle. She is eating the grass. I like to see her eat the grass. I like to see her eat the grass because that is what she likes to eat"

Of course these are the kids who still call most birds "bird", despite me telling them from birth exactly what we were seeing on a daily basis: a jay, a sunbird, a blackbird, a crow, a myna, a laughing dove, a sparrow... Just about the only birds they distinguish by name are ducks, parrots/parakeets and maybe a wagtail (nahlieli, a symbol of autumn drummed in to every Israeli kindergartner)

But nope, as we were walking through the gates Twin B called out "Look Imma, a bird!"

Me: Yes Twin B, that's a laughing dove (tzotzelet), just like the ones we've seen nesting on our outdoor light"

Twin B: Yes Imma, it's a bird