It’s like pulling teeth with
my naked fingers, but slowly, painfully, a chapter of Tying the Knot (which name may be changed to Goodbye Crewel World) is taking shape in the form of a New Year’s
Eve poker game. I’m almost afraid to
mention it, for fear it will scare the words away.
There’s a red fox in the
neighborhood. The crows have his number;
I was alerted to the fox’s presence by the crows screaming vituperation at him
as he slunk across a neighbor’s lawn early one morning. I’ve seen him twice, he’s a beautiful red
color. Maybe he’s why I haven’t seen
many rabbits this spring and summer. It’s
interesting to note the way wild animals are reclaiming territory humans ran
them out of long ago. When I was a child
(I’m in my seventies) city dwellers never saw a raccoon raiding their garbage
cans like they do now. Or had deer eating their hostas. Also lately there
are urban coyotes, and their dangerous new cousin the coyote-wolf crossbreed,
and even the occasional bear. Maybe it’s
because we’re cleaning up the environment, Or because we’ve stopped shooting
them on sight.
I’m having a spell of “I want
that, but I can’t have it.” There’s a
counted cross stitch kit for sale in two catalogs that makes me laugh when I
see it. It’s actually on the cover of
one of them. It depicts a peacock who
looks like he’s been through a battle.
His feathers are disordered, half his tail is missing or the feathers
broken, even those little things that stand up on his head are messy. His eyes are staring. He’s vastly different from the proud, elegant
bird you normally see in pictures. He
looks like I’ve felt some mornings, I’d love him on a sweatshirt. But the kit (and I don’t like kits) costs
fifty dollars – and, anyway, I’ve no talent for counted cross stitch. My fingers itch to try him, but experience
says Not A Chance.
1 comment:
How fun that the wildlife in your neighborhood is so visible. I'm always happy to see something new--except I wish the coyotes around here would stay up in the hills.
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