My dog, Lucy, and I often walk our quiet streets attempting to stir up squirrels and cats. Quite often we do and like a flash Lucy is chasing the free animal with her lease bouncing and banging beside her. So our quiet neighbor is once again awake with barking and snarling.
Yesterday, as we walked, the muted fall leaves scurried like little mice across the streets, under our feet, around the corners, and down from above. Still it was quiet and the animals in the neighborhood slept on. My mind, too, was quiet, until suddenly a yard sprinkler system came on full blast. Shivers crept up my wet side as I danced to the right and out into the center of street. Lucy was faster and never a drop touched her fur.
I laugh at moments like this and often wonder if the angels above enjoy the same moments. Sometimes I think I hear their laughter in the trees.
The splash of water reminded me of a moment that I enjoyed last summer. It was Friday, August 13 and once again Lucy and I were walking down the street in the early morning. Thank heavens she walks and tugs with her nose to the ground because that day it saved us. I, too, am always scanning the bushes and yards for cats, rabbits, and squirrels so I can be prepared should Lucy decide to jerk or bound away from me. (Just keeps my shoulder joint in place!) On that Friday the 13th I was blessed to watch a little black animal trot across the street one house away. Oh, she pranced with delight and when her tail went up I froze. The little skunk surprised me. She never noticed me and so I quietly observed her.
Just after she crossed into a wide open yard the sprinkler system came on. Much to her delight she seemed to leap onto her tiptoes and dance the two step across the yard. Back and forth her tail wavered in the light sprays of water and she was alone with nature. This was her dance, her time, her space and I was one lucky traveller who felt blessed to watch this interaction.
I also felt humanely blessed that my dog's nose was busy sniffing the nearby cedar bushes, so she never once picked up the scent or dance of the skunk. Now as Halloween approaches I picture our little skunk dancing, and hope she doesn't trick our neighborhood children, but if she does, So Be It. They, too, will have stories to tell about the little black and white trick or treater.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Mosquito lessons
I once took a college class in which the professor explained that we really hadn't learned anything until we processed it, acted on it, and continued to act on the learned lesson. So I guess I don't learn well!
Lesson ONE not learned: about a month ago I was sitting outside in the evening watching the birds glide across the sky while chatting on the cell phone when a mosquito happened to nimble on my arm. Instinctively I slapped the mosquito, but the cell phone in hand took flight. I must say the mosquito was unharmed while the cell phone has two concrete bruises on it. Now I thought I had learned my lesson, don't slap mosquitoes while talking on the phone. Wrong! I did it again while talking and walking in the backyard last night. This time I slapped a mosquito on my neck and as the phone began sliding down my back side I managed a new dance step and voila! I caught the phone mid-air. But the question remains--did I learn not to talk on the phone with mosquitoes present?
Lesson TWO not learned: don't leave the windows down in the car on summer evenings while it's parked safely in the garage, unless, of course, one desires to see how many mosquitoes can reproduce overnight in a car. Pulling out of the driveway that morning not to many weeks ago found me with four windows down, AC going full blast, and arms slapping in my vain attempt to shed the car of mosquitoes. I was just relieved that the neighbors weren't outside watching. But did I learn not to leave the windows down....No. At least the second time the mosquito population didn't amount to very many, and I was able to drive away after minor slapping, but kept the windows down a few more blocks, just in case. So maybe the professor was right-I haven't learned my lessons.
Lesson ONE not learned: about a month ago I was sitting outside in the evening watching the birds glide across the sky while chatting on the cell phone when a mosquito happened to nimble on my arm. Instinctively I slapped the mosquito, but the cell phone in hand took flight. I must say the mosquito was unharmed while the cell phone has two concrete bruises on it. Now I thought I had learned my lesson, don't slap mosquitoes while talking on the phone. Wrong! I did it again while talking and walking in the backyard last night. This time I slapped a mosquito on my neck and as the phone began sliding down my back side I managed a new dance step and voila! I caught the phone mid-air. But the question remains--did I learn not to talk on the phone with mosquitoes present?
Lesson TWO not learned: don't leave the windows down in the car on summer evenings while it's parked safely in the garage, unless, of course, one desires to see how many mosquitoes can reproduce overnight in a car. Pulling out of the driveway that morning not to many weeks ago found me with four windows down, AC going full blast, and arms slapping in my vain attempt to shed the car of mosquitoes. I was just relieved that the neighbors weren't outside watching. But did I learn not to leave the windows down....No. At least the second time the mosquito population didn't amount to very many, and I was able to drive away after minor slapping, but kept the windows down a few more blocks, just in case. So maybe the professor was right-I haven't learned my lessons.
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