After the Attack

The sun was a big orange ball starting to clear the tree-line as we headed off this morning. It was still early enough on this crisp morning that most neighbors had not recovered their newspapers.

There is no blood or crime tape marking the place of our attack, but we are still marked (me more than Paddy according to my friend Steve - the dog whisperer) and were more than alert as we crossed the street to give the area a wide berth...

The park seemed like it was waiting for us, perhaps since our efforts to get there were blocked for a few days. We missed it and it missed us. And, as brave girls, Padimus and I decided to wander down the dirt road and visit the meadows too. 

We could see the fresh tracks in the dust of the road. They were here, the deer. (That the skunks had been there was clear too, although we saw none of their tracks.)

The wild verbena are huge and beautiful - a new carpet of purple. Ahead on the road the birds (including a cardinal - thank you God for all the birds, but especially for some that are not brown and grey. I love those as well, but I need to be able to identify a few) flitted back and forth from one side to the other.

We heard some rustling in the woods, but feared we were simply too late...until we reached the back meadow. We were rewarded for our courage this day. One deer was just entering the clearing from the woods. It snorted a warning and a second doe joined it. They ran and stopped, ran and stopped, crossing the entire meadow. We watched them, white flags waiving back and forth as they entered the brush again.

With the sun at our backs we went home, again skirting THAT place. We noted the parade of parents heading to the playing fields. And we complain of congested roadways no more remembering our good neighbors...

Park Blessings

Still adjusting to the time. Got up early (6) to discover DH had not gone for his run. I sacrificed my sleeping late to make him walk with me.

Paddy doesn't care if it is 6 or 8 or 11. She is just ready to go.

The lights of town bounced off the cloud cover and so if seemed brighter than normal. The same band present in the park: banana man, Bobby, Escalade man...but there was also a strange truck in the parking lot. The driver was just sitting there with the overhead light on...

We heard lots of night insects. INSECTS! Perhaps this means we will have a return of the owls and other creatures that have been missing this past year of drought.

Banana man spoke of his blessings as we exchanged greetings this morning.

I know what he means...

2 Calicos

Ah, I will always have the walk. 

I will miss these spring break walks. The neighbors and neighborhood are different in the light of day - the calico cats lounging in a neighbor's yard, the heeler off-leash and staying at his owner's side, the little old couple doing yardwork, MORE cats lounging in the windows at Mohawk dog's house, the friend on his riding mower at the house across the street [Once the unhappy house of a murderer, three families later, it still appears in my mind surrounded by police tape], the shrubs and trees (save the pecans which know about snow at Easter) shooting out green in time for the saint's day, and a tiny purple blooming weed creating carpets of color everywhere. 

I know what this silly little thing is called, but cannot remember right now. I have two wildflower books out for help. I think it funny how such an insignificant plant can have its time to show off. It is not normally so widespread and obvious, but the drought killed its competitors. This is its year...whatever it is called...bringing us visions - fields of purpley pink...

The heeler and two calicos seemed a message from Oreo, Ratso and Peaches  -that all is well.

How Many Mornings?

How many perfect mornings do you get?

Every single one you get.  

Sometimes they are easy to recognize

and other times you have to squint to see

and listen hard to hear

the beating of your heart

and the snort of deer

- warning the herd of the approaching threat.*

Sometimes it is just a perfect morning. While we started out late, the day was dawning and gave us such a different experience.

The temperature was cool. And the view? We came around the corner and started down the last hill - the sight of the old truss river bridge bearing the first few cars of the early to work always makes me smile - a youthful memory not yet the victim of upgrade. Above that the skeletal trees, still holding out against one more spell of cold weather, reached up to a necklace of lights from the next town over followed by the vivid colors of the sunrise and the dark layer of clouds.

We decided to walk to the first meadow...where we felt, but did not see the deer herd. They had left scent, prints in the dusty road, and a sense of their having deserted the clearing just as we passed the tree line. We will try again another day.

We noted buttercups blooming along the way home and Padimus attempted to engage an older hound who responded with only a bored look. Mohawk dog and friends made up for the snub. It will soon be time for his haircut and we cannot wait. He is a different dog in the summer. But then aren't we all a little different in the summer?

NOTES:

* This memory popped up in social media and I check to see if it was saved here. It wasn't, but now it is.